A Scholar's travels with a Witcher

by Spike368

Sent out to gather the knowledge of the real world. A young scholar from the University of Oxenfurt finds a wounded Witcher on the steps to the inn where he was staying. So he starts gathering the material for his journals. Rated T for language I will be publishing this story on Royal Road /profile/349358

176. Chapter 176

(A/N: I wasn't able to find anyone that could tell me what it's like to learn to live with prosthesis on a first-hand basis and everything that I could find online was more about motivational speaking than actual nitty gritty. So what is happening here is based on talking to people that have recovered from serious injury and a certain attempt at logical thinking. I'm sorry if I got it wrong but I will explain it away as Medieval technology and understanding with magical input. Thanks for reading.)

All told it took me four days to finish writing out what happened to me in the basement of Coulthard Castle.

It was the single most intense period of writing that I can immediately remember. I was fully in the process of it all, head down and writing furiously. I was constrained by the fact that I could no longer cheat and use my shorthand because, although there were some rumblings about the possibility that I could train someone else to be my

transcriber, that would not be fast enough. So I had to write the entire thing out in Longhand.

I sat there, frowning in the watery winter light that shone through my window, or in the flickering yellow light of the candle and lamp flames as I worked, scratching my pen across the parchment with grim determination. I want to say that it was hard, that it was difficult and that the words were dragged out of me in a style that was close to torment. But that simply wasn't the case.

It was all too easy.

It was too easy to go back to that time and back to that place where the smell of the dead and the dying permeated the air and tickled my nose. The shockwaves of discharging magic as Sam's blows impacted Kerrass' shields. My sense of helplessness climbed back into my mind and my heart and I wrote, frantically and quickly.

I would hate to be the person that has to rewrite what happened or get the thing ready to take to the printers. There would be ink splatter and crossings out and misspellings all over the place.

I also know that the speed and intensity which I used to get the work done was something of a concern to a few of my minders. But the truth of the matter was that I just couldn't stop. Now that the matter has begun, I knew in the depths of my soul that if I stopped, even for a moment, then I would not be able to start again. It was like a madness that got into the depths of my skull and the only way that I could shake it all out was if I wrote it all out for myself.

So I wrote. People would come in and sit with me. I was, and am, still recovering from everything that happened and I am now more than aware that the journey of that recovery is likely to never end. But at that point, the recovery was particularly severe.

I was self-aware enough that I knew when to call for the chamber pot and could clean myself up afterwards. I was also, to everyone's delight including mine, able to clean myself when a bath was made for me. It was still awkward and someone did need to stay with me while I learned how to bathe without the benefit of feet or a spare hand with which to bathe myself. It is easier now, but at that point, my… stumps were still fairly tender and I didn't want to overtax them at these points. But I was beginning to love to bathe and I wanted to do it regularly. It was only Samantha's gentle teasing that meant that I was not bathing in the morning and again at night.

I told her that I liked to feel clean. She would get sad for a moment and then she would tell me that she understood.

I could also eat better. My strength was taking its own sweet time to recover and as a result, I was still eating lots of little things spread out over the course of the day. I longed for a day where I could eat a steak or a proper stew. But I was also realistic enough to know that that time was some way off. I was still living off soup and other such gloopy things that didn't need to be cut up with a knife.

It was suggested, not by me, that someone could do that for me but apparently, Samantha refused the honour of performing such a task.

I was also never alone. Now that some of the bans had been lifted, I was allowed some visitors. There were some constraints on those visitors. I only found out about that later but I cannot say that I disagree with the decided filters.

My visitors were not anyone that was still involved with any of the politics that was going on. Therefore those Skelligans that were around were not permitted to come and see me until later. Neither were the Knights or the others from Toussaint. No one military was allowed to come, nor was anyone political or religious other than Father Anchor who was there as my confessor anyway.

No one of any magical persuasion was allowed in although I understood that Lady Yennefer was at the Rosemary & Thyme and it was she who was running the place. Professor Dandelion was away, watching the history take place or accompanying Lord Geralt in whatever it was that the white-haired Witcher was doing and Master Chivay was far more sensible than to get in Lady Yennefer's way.

But no mages were allowed to come and see me.

The long and short of it was that they wanted me to be kept out of the politics. They were concerned that if the politics were allowed to come into my sphere then I would want to be involved and I would injure myself or make myself ill in the pursuit of those things. But also, decisions were being made about my future and one of those decisions was to keep me out of the firing lines of what had happened up until that point. When I rejoined society, which they were determined that I was going to do, they wanted me to rejoin without agenda and with a fresh eye. But for now, I needed to focus on my recovery.

On the second day of doing my work, I was dimly aware that a pair of dwarves and a gnome were shown in to see me to begin the process of arranging my prosthetics. They behaved a lot like a tailor does in that I seemed to be the least important person in the room. I remember very little about what happened or what they talked about but they spent some time talking to Samantha as well as my doctor before taking a whole lot of measurements of me, especially my surviving hands and around the remaining stumps of my limbs. I was encouraged to ignore them and as I still had work to do, that was fairly easy to do.

My doctor was a Nilfgaardian man who would turn up occasionally to "check on my progress". He had the attitude of a man who had lots to do and keeping an eye on me, as one of his many patients, was a bit of a waste of time. Again, he asked more questions of Samantha than he did of me and other than doing things like looking into the light and answering a few questions, while he inserted medical things into my ears and under my arm-pits. I found that I could ignore him quite easily. He struck me as one of those doctors for whom the patient gets in the way of doing the actual work.

On the third day, Ciri came to see me again.

My routine for those four days was fairly simple. I would wake to the shaking from Samantha where I would go through my morning ablutions before I would start work. Then I would snack on something once every couple of hours or so before I would be forced to take a break for a while before dinner when Father Anchor would insist on my stopping and the two of us praying, talking or otherwise spending some time not working. If I was lucky, they would let me work for a couple of hours before bathing when I would go to bed.

Bathing is going to be a luxury for me in the future. I can still feel the clamminess and the filth clinging to my body.

I was getting stronger… But I was still far from healthy. I felt cold, I was more tired than I should be. I was… Sore and my body ached in ways that it was not supposed to ache. Samantha told me that it was my body getting used to the new normal of things. Now that I wasn't using my left arm or my legs, then I was using muscles that had never really been used before and getting used to a different weight distribution for balance purposes.

Then she grinned nastily and told me that this was nothing compared to how it would be when I was relearning how to walk with my new prosthetic feet.

I told her to fuck off and she laughed.

But I was rarely left alone. Sometimes it was Samantha that was sitting, doing something involving needles and thread. Sometimes it was Father Anchor that would come up and sit at one of the tables in the room, often with Tulip who would sit and talk quietly with her husband. One time, Roary the Red himself came to keep me company and told me long tales about what was happening in the lands of the Black Boar but Samantha chased him out with orders that he was not to be distracting me at that moment given that I had work to be doing.

I was always aware that there was someone else in the room with me as I worked. I rarely had to ask for a new quill before I found one laid out next to me. Nor did I ever have to ask for fresh paper and I never looked up to find that those papers that I had already written were taking up space.

So these people just sat in the background and watched me work and I ignored them as I focused on getting this most unpleasant of chores done so that I could get on with finding out what would happen in my life next.

But on the third day, Ciri came to see me. She didn't come striding in, booting the door down and demanding to be acknowledged. Nor did she appear in the middle of everything with a green flash and a smile. She was a lot like any of the other people in that she just quietly let herself in and sat in the corner watching as my quill scratched and spattered away at the paper as I recorded all of the sights, sounds and visions that I had seen.

I became aware of her gradually and although the thought occurred that I should just ignore her, I finished my thought and carefully put the pen aside to consider what I was going to say to her.

I distinctly remember thinking 'Fuck it'.

"Have you come to wipe my arse?" I wondered. "I manage it nine times out of ten now but I still miss a bit sometimes."

"No," she replied. "Nor have I come to jerk you off."

"That's a pity," I told her. "I could do with being able to brag that the Empress of the continent had once given me a hand."

"You still have one working hand." She protested.

I shook my head. "Nah, in writing, eating and most things, my writing hand is dominant, but for reasons that I have never understood, when it comes to the act of taking care of myself, my left was always the go-to option. Was always able to reach bits the right could not get to."

We laughed and it felt good.

"I am sorry Freddie," she told me, "but it has to be done."

"I know," I replied, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice and I sighed. "I know. I don't want to talk about it though, how are things going out there?"

"It is complicated and although you will find out because I want you to be involved in dealing with it, first I need you to get better. Or at least be able to walk or something. I understand that you have been measured for prosthetic feet?"

"I have. I have also been told that relearning to walk again is going to be really really easy."

"And utterly without pain," she added. "Or so I've heard. But for now, focus on getting better. The Empire needs you."

"The Empire can get fucked." I was unable to keep my pain in a box. "After everything…"

I stopped and turned away for a moment to master myself.

"We know Freddie. Believe me, we know. You have been let down, badly, and your brother was not the only one that betrayed you. The Empire is going to work at making it up for you."

I didn't have the words to reply to that. My immediate urge was that I wanted to tell her to jam it up her ass.

"In the meantime though, I have a gift for you. Well, not really a gift more… Oh, fuck it. Here it is."

She got up and came over to me.

In her hands was my belly knife. The same one that Letho had given me all that time ago. The scabbard was new and there were some straps and things around it.

"I have been held a captive before." She told me. "And when I was returned to safety, even though I knew that I was surrounded by friends and was guarded by men that I knew would die rather than give me up, I felt better for having a trusted blade close to hand."

I was astonished to find that my vision had gone blurry and I dashed the tears from my eyes.

"I will leave you to your work Lord Coulthard."

She was almost to the door when a thought crystallised in my head.

"I can… Ciri?"

She stopped and turned to look at me, her face was bleak with unhappiness.

"I know the difference," I told her. "I can love the woman and hate the crown," I told her.

She nodded before taking a breath.

"I will call upon you when I can Freddie."

"Bring something to drink with you next time," I told her. "I am becoming parched."

"I will check with your doctors as to what is acceptable." She told me.

"Boring," I told her.

She laughed and left while I bent my head and got back to work.

That was a good moment during those four days. One of the few. Occasionally other people would try to keep me cheerful or to otherwise distract me from what I was doing, but the truth of the matter was that I wanted the job done. I wanted it done and I resented these interruptions.

So people would turn up, pull a chair over and talk to me about this or that and mostly I would ignore them, telling them that I wanted to work. And I did.

But I would be lying if I tried to tell you that I didn't feel comforted by the fact that I had a weapon on my belly or under my pillow when I slept

The fourth day came and I finally managed to finish what I was doing somewhere in the afternoon. I have no idea when because a clerk had been sent to collect the writing as soon as I was finished with it and I all but threw them at him and told him to get the fuck out of my sight and that I never wanted to see him again. He didn't seem to take any kind of offence at that and left with the same placid expression on his face that he had worn when he had walked in.

I was useless for the rest of the day and when people came in to take me through the exercises that I needed to do to keep my limbs working and so that I didn't end up with bed sores, they found me in tears.

Writing it all down had the same kind of effect that I had feared it would have. I had wept as I had written the part of the story when I had forced myself across the floor of the basement to plant the axe in the back of my brother. I wept at the memory of the last words that I shared with Francesca.

I absolutely believe that was Francesca that I spoke to. Some have tried to tell me that it was a last vision brought on by the horror, the exhaustion and the latent magic that was in the air. Some vision that I had conjured for myself to carry me over the line to do the awful thing that I had to do and the terrible things that I did to myself to get the job done.

That theory is entirely possible. But I believe differently. I believe that I spoke to Francesca, Rickard, Mark and Jerome in those moments. I believe that I saw my Father and talked with my mother. I believe that I saw them all, spoke to them all and that they gave me the strength to that last effort.

I believe that and nothing that anyone can tell me lets me think any differently.

Some, including Father Anchor, have generously suggested that I was close to death, teetering on the edge of things as I forced my body to do what needed to be done and as such, I hovered so close to the edge that I could see over it and see the other side. I have no idea if this is true or not.

I prefer the thought that they saw that I needed help. They saw that I needed that little bit of extra support at the end of my endurance and that they came to me then to help me see the thing through.

I ached for Ariadne and I longed, and still long, to speak to her, to take her into my arms and tell her that all is alright and that I understand.

I felt again, the absurd pride in Bronwyn the courtesan that was the first person to create and instigate a plan to fight back against her murderer. The courage that must have taken is something that almost shakes me down to my foundations.

I felt hollow as, through the pictures of memory, I watched as my mother and brother died and I felt that same aching despair as Rickard screamed his last act of defiance while he died.

And I wept for Sam. I will admit that here. I wept for my brother and as it comes down to it, I am most inconsolable about Sam and what happened there. The traitor, my torturer, the murderer that enslaved the people that I love by using their nature, or the best part of us against ourselves. The manipulator, the heretic and the mass murderer. The liar. The rapist. The…

Flame but I miss my brother.

I do not miss the brother that he was, I miss the brother that I thought I had. I remember parts of our childhood where we felt that we were each other's only friends and allies. I remember his joy when Ariadne and I announced our engagement and I remembered his jokes at my expense. I remember him enquiring as to whether or not she had a sister. All of that is tainted now with the knowledge of what has come since and that is the thing that seems to be tearing me apart. I am struggling to reconcile the one with the other and I do not know what to do about that.

Try as they might, my guardians cannot keep all the politics away from my door. So I know that where Edmund was allowed to be buried with the rest of the family, even while there is a debate about the fact that his body should be moved and studied just as Sam's is being, Sam will not be allowed any kind of remembrance in his assigned place. He will have a funeral though and I understand that the process had already started.

As I predicted at the time, his body is being thoroughly dissected and tested for latent magical and dangerous energies. The Lodge of Sorceresses, the council of mages and the Nilfgaardian magical colleges are collaborating on the subject and it is all taking place under the regulation and auspices of the three martial churches by which I mean, the Great Sun, the Eternal Flame and Kreve the Sky-Father.

After that, his body will be burnt in a furnace so that nothing can survive. Not some funeral pyre but a proper furnace. The kind of thing that is designed to melt steel. A fire was so hot that there will not even be ash to bury.

There will still be a place for him in the family crypt though. Because as well as the main crypt there is a small door off to one side. Another gate is locked by a key that Father used to threaten us with. That will lead to the traitor's place, where those members of the family go who do not deserve to be remembered. Sam will be the first to have his name remembered in that place and that will be his final resting place.

It will be one of the duties that I must see to when it comes to the point.

But I wept as I recalled that last conversation that I had with him. That was the closest that I could get to reconciling the two versions of Sam that now live in my head. The hateful heretic and the laughing warrior. That was the point where the two of them came together in my head. The evidence of everything that he had done to himself, given that despite the horrific injuries that he had taken, he was still alive enough to talk to me. The remorse that wasn't quite remorse and the apology that wasn't quite an apology. That last look of terror and awful agony on his face as he died. That was the real man. Samuel Kalayn.

My brother.

Dammit.

Turns out that there are still tears in me for that man. It baffles me as to why the memory of that traitor conjures more pain and sorrow than the loss of my other family or closest friends does.

I sobbed and wept for a long time after that was done. Enough time that Samantha whipped up one of her amazing concoctions for me and I slept, waking up on the first day of what I expected to be the rest of my life and I started to get visitors.

After those first days of work, I got the feeling that it was now that my proper and full recovery was starting. Exercises were assigned, food was carefully distributed and I was given command of my own medicine. It might seem like something small but the ability to lift a bottle to your lips and take a swallow, or to pour a bottle into a small cup before lifting that to your lips in comparison to having someone lace your food, your drink or even worse, pour you a little spoon and then pushing that into your mouth the same way you would an errant child… That alone was a significant step forward so that I didn't feel as much like an invalid.

I do remember one plaintive episode where I complained and wondered if there was ever going to come a day when I wouldn't have to take any medicine or rub any cream into hard-to-reach parts of my body. I was told by Samantha to stop moaning and appreciate the fact that I was still alive to carry out those chores.

My food became increasingly solid for which I was grateful. Nothing quite as soul-destroying as eating soup for prolonged periods, but the people that were measuring my recovery had declared that my internals and the digestive system had recovered enough to progress to that level. Not only that but also this was echoed by the fact that I was taking care of my own sanitary needs.

A dwarf came to see me to talk about the prosthetics that they were making for me. He spent a bunch of time telling me just how expensive they were and just how complicated the process was but other than that, he spent most of his time warning me not to take things for granted. The point was that although I could, with time, recover a lot of my former movement, there would always be a certain amount of difference there. He also warned me that, even if I had magical assistance in getting to know my new limbs, I would not just be able to bounce out of bed and start running races. I was informed that learning to walk on these things would be a long and arduous process and that it would hurt, but that I needed to get used to them. Not least of which would be the added weight.

I told him that it all sounded encouraging. He did not react to my levity with enthusiasm though.

It was around here that it became obvious that my guardians and keepers could not keep all of the politics from seeping through into my life.

Svein, Thorvald and Kar came to see me. Svein had a new scar on his face and Kar was walking with a limp but it was good to see my fellow survivors from the Wave-Serpent. There were others of course but these three were the ones that were closest to me.

"Morning scribbler." Svein grinned as he walked in. Flame love the man but it was obvious that none of the three of them are courtiers. They saw me and were appalled about what they saw. Kar actively had to turn away, unable to keep his emotions from his face. Thorvald took the matter well, hiding his discomfort with a deep breath while Svein fought back a flash of anger.

"Morning lads." I was getting good at ignoring people's responses to the state of me. "How are things?"

"Ah, Scribbler." Svein set his wrapped burdens down and well out of the way. "I have to thank you. It's so rare that we have a good righteous fight and you gave us one of the best."

"I live to serve," I bowed from my waist. I'm getting good at doing that from the seated position in my bed, now and not overbalancing as I do it.

Kar was hiding his discomfort by investigating some of the jugs that were around the place and pouring some drinks for everyone. I noticed, even if others didn't, that he poured himself a drink, downed it and then poured another by passing around the cups. Thorvald just sat quietly.

"Just a shame that we couldn't get to you sooner," Svein told me before becoming silent. "We are sorry my friend."

I took a deep breath. It was not the first apology that I had received along those lines nor was it the last and I was learning how to take them. I had discovered that brushing the apology off was a quick way to insult the person, as was trying to make too little of what had happened. But also, the apologiser wanted to be reassured as well.

"It's alright," I told all three of them. "It's alright. You were not there as you were bound by duty and if you were there, you would have been caught just as surely as those of us that were there. The Queen (meaning Cerys) needed your protection and as such… Helfdan would not have gone any other way."

"He would not." Thorvald agreed.

"And this…" I lifted my left arm. "This happened early and there would have been very little you could have done to save me. Instead, you would have died in the basement alongside all of the others."

Svein was wise enough to have known what I was going to say and he took all of that in his stride. I think Kar was ashamed though and he wasn't looking at me.

"I trust," Svein leant forward. "That you have been informed that all you have to do is say the word and we can have you…"

"I know." I patted him on the arm. "I know and I am grateful. But I must see this through. I am out of danger now at least."

"Are you?" Thorvald seemed sceptical. "It seems to me that the continentals are treating you rather sourly."

Svein waved the older man to silence.

"Where is Helfdan?" I wondered, attempting to divert the topic.

"He is currently making a nuisance of himself…"

Thorvald kicked Svein and Svein sighed and took a deep breath.

"We are under… orders," Svein said darkly.

"Oh?" I wondered.

"You are not to be troubled by anything political," Thorvald told me. "Nothing that would worry you and as such, we took that to mean that we basically can't talk to you about anything. This is so that you don't crawl out of your sick bed and want to get involved."

"Which is a fair comment, let's face it," Kar muttered, finally sitting down.

"There's more to it than that of course," Svein told me. "I think the Swallow has something in mind for your future that means that she wants you to go into the situation clean."

I nodded to say that I could see the point.

"In the meantime," Svein continued, "'is lordship is making a nuisance of himself by ordering Redanian and Temerian merchants and courtiers around." Svein sniffed. "I think he's kind of enjoying 'imself but it means that he's not where he wants to be. Which is here, just so you know."

He said that last while staring straight into my eye to tell me that what he was telling me was sincere.

"I know," I told him. "Tell him that I miss him and that I look forward to seeing him again."

"We will," Thorvald answered with just the right amount of weight.

"Anyway, we have gifts," Svein told me, gesturing to Kar who dragged the bundles over. "Well… not really gifts but… well, we found them. We would get you to unwrap them but they're heavy and…"

I lost the rest of his words as Kar placed the axe of Father Gardan on the bed next to me and then propped my spear next to the bed.

"I see you already got the dagger," Svein told me and I nodded as I stroked the haft of my spear before resting my hand on the haft of the axe.

I was, again, astonished to find tears in my eyes.

"Do not be ashamed Scribbler," Thorvald told me. "Sometimes our weapons are our final friends. Closer than lovers even."

I nodded as I reached back for the spear and tried to pull it towards me. I was dismayed by how weak I felt and Svein leapt forward to catch it and lay it across me. I used the moment to wipe my eyes.

"What…? How…?"

"We made it our business to find them," Kar told me.

I looked at him sharply, remembering his reputation as a thief.

"What?" He demanded looking innocent.

"We had them examined," Svein told me, drawing my thoughts away. "We got Ermion to look at them, then we got the most frightening Sorceress we could find to look at them. We had them oiled, cleaned and sharpened although the axe didn't really need it. A formidable weapon that one. Then when we were downstairs we got that priest of yours to bless them."

"I liked him," Thorvald told me. "A well-grounded man that, I thought."

"He is." I pulled the spear towards me. I found it monstrously heavy but the cold weight in my hand felt good. Svein propped the axe against the nearby table and wrapped it up again.

"We've also had new scabbards made and they will be brought to you later." He told me.

I nodded, again, feeling the need to wipe the tears away.

"I ummm." I cleared my throat and everyone pretended that it was a symptom of sickness while Kar poured me another drink.

"I am grateful," I told them. "So… what can you tell me? How goes the rebuilding of Holmstein?"

It was the right question and we spoke for many hours about the state of Helfdan's harbour and the new keep that was being built.

The storytellers in them all soon came to the fore. They told me funny stories about how the harbour town that Svein now ruled was being rebuilt and repurposed into a ship-building town. Not the biggest shipbuilding, but it was becoming the place where they would test out all of the innovations that Helfdan was coming up with. Some of them worked, some of them did not, and still others of them would work given advances in certain other technologies. The main shipyard and harbour were still being built around Holmstein. They had divided the beach there so that some of it was being rebuilt and repurposed while the next bit was working and then they were cycling down the landing area.

All three men were in awe of the keep that Helfdan was having built. They told me that the thing was not going to be a beautiful building in the way that Kaer Trolde was a beautiful building, or at least, not unless you were aware of all of the military engineering that had gone into it.

But what they did say was that any sailor or army that tried to land anywhere near Holmstein would find the place terrifying. Svein said that the sheer field of view that the keep would command over the southern seas was enough to make a big man feel small and he was confident that no enemy fleet would be able to approach Skellige from the South, or the West, without the clan of the Black Boar knowing about it. And the only way that a land army could get to the keep was from the North as the mountains would be in the way otherwise.

The sheer pride that radiated off all three of them was heartening to see. I told them that I was looking forward to seeing it and then they waxed poetic about the times they would have with me and the hospitality that they would give me. They talked about the parties and the feasts. Apparently, there are proper sagas now about the last fight of the Wave-Serpent in which the Scribbler, the Swallow and the Witcher attacked an enemy ship.

"Brings a tear to my eye," Svein said, wiping an imaginary tear away and sniffing hugely, thus making me laugh uncontrollably.

They told me a lot of stories. I heard, from the men that were there, about how it all went when Helfdan proposed marriage to the Queen of Skellige and Svein beamed with pride as he described how his lord had stood before the Queen and looked her in the eyes as he declared his love. He told me about her smile that started gentle and encouraging before turning into delighted, girlish and… I quote… "Adorable" as she allowed the moment to sink in.

And then they all laughed as they described how Helfdan lost control of himself and swooned, needing to sit down and be fed a large cup of ale to fortify himself before he advanced up the dais and knelt before her before Cerys picked him up and hugged him to the cheering of the halls.

There were more stories. They told me about how the Skelligans had found new kinship with the dwarven engineers who could be persuaded to sail across the straits to get to the islands. There was much laughter about the culture shock of the Temerian Siege engineers although Svein proudly told us that more than one of those siege engineers had found lots to like in the clan of the Black Boar. Kar pointed out that one of the things they liked was the women of the Black Boar as more than one of them was getting married.

There was laughter and fun and I felt better in the company of friends than I had in a while. In the end, though, the three men were chased out by a combined force of Tulip and Samantha who came and drove them from the room with threats of withheld cooking and a sound thrashing from Samantha.

I slept better that day.

The next day it was Lady Yennefer that finally came up to the room. She was dressed in her black and Silver clothing, the same as she ever does, she was wearing a skirt this time rather than her riding boots and trews which meant that she wasn't expecting big and dangerous things. She was carrying a large sack.

She walked in and dumped the sack on the floor before turning to me and forestalling all my questions, of which I had many, by putting her finger to her lips and skewering me with a look. She waited until I subsided.

"Ask me no questions and I will tell you no lies." She told me rather severely.

I nodded a little meekly and she gave an answering, more satisfied nod before dragging the sack over to me and inspecting the nearest chair. She found some kind of fault in it and chose the next one which she brought over next to the bed and sat down before crossing her legs. She folded her hands and rested them on top of her knee.

"The situation is this." She told me. "You are having all of the politics kept from you. This is so that you do not worry yourself over them but also so that when you do return to public life, you will be free of any blemish so that your rivals will not be able to say that your eventual appointments are political. Your friends, which I hope I can still number myself among, and your feudal superiors need you to be strong enough. Therefore we need your focus to be on returning yourself to full health."

I nodded meekly to show that I understood.

"However, I may say that there is one piece of information that you will need." Her face softened a little. Still, the only woman that I know that can do that. Where the expression doesn't change but you know that she is suddenly being more gentle with you.

"There has still been no sign of Ariadne." She told me. "We are looking, but it is becoming increasingly clear that she does not want to be found. You are not the only person that is concerned about her, but your concerns are on a different branch than mine. But those of the Lodge that are your friends, and her friends, are determined that her story and activity in the continent do not end here. But those efforts are ongoing and you will not solve the matter by leaving your sick bed prematurely. If you try, I shall ensorcel you to stay there, do you understand?"

I nodded, taking a moment to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat. Ariadne had once used the same turn of phrase and suddenly, missing her was a solid blade that was driven into my gut. I was astonished to find one of Lady Yennefer's small hands taking mine.

"There are several heroes that come out of all of this. You and your sister are not the least, but Ariadne is one of them. She does not want to be found yet, but those who know her best, Maleficent and Enid, insist that she will not let go of you quite so easily. Just promise us that when a dark cloud of sinister origins turns up to spirit you away, that you will let someone know?"

The image was funny and a small chuckle forced its way past my lips. I looked up to see that Lady Yennefer's expression had not changed but I wondered if I was imagining the glint of humour deep in the violet gaze.

"In the meantime," Yennefer hauled the Sack over before digging out a couple of small leather binders of papers which she placed on the table next to my bed before dumping the sack itself on my lap. "I am sick and tired of being the only one that deals with all of this stuff. I also agree with Ciri that you have been mishandled in the past. Your mind needs work or it will spin out of control and destroy itself."

"What is all of this?" I wondered.

"Our correspondence. Your personal correspondence is still being monitored in case there are things to be learnt that we do not want you to know or in case there are any clues inside that might lead us to leftover elements of the rebellion. But this is our correspondence when speaking regarding 'A being that we named Jack'."

For the uninitiated, that is the title of her and my, not small, treatise on Jack.

"As well as all of the letters, I have here," she patted the leather-bound bundles of papers, "outlines for some future works. Of the two that I have prepared, I think that we have the most raw material regarding The Schattenmann although the figure of Kerrass' Goddess is not far behind him. I think it would be best if we chose one of those two subjects for follow-up work as you have the evidence of your own eyes to work from when it comes to what happened. I also have the final draft of the book on the Elder and what he had to say for you to read and affix your seal of approval to which we intend to publish when everything dies down."

"If it dies down," I commented.

Absently, I reached into the sack to find that it was pretty full of slightly squashed scrolls and folded papers. I let my hand find one and opened it, peering at the spidery scrawl absently.

"One of the other bundles." Yennefer went on as I read, "contains the latest reports on how we are progressing with the new creations of some more Witcher schools for you to go through. It has been a while since that particular committee has heard from you and we are getting to the point now where we are desiring your input."

That first letter was an interesting one. I won't transcribe it here, nor will I humiliate the person who wrote it to us by mentioning their name. They had some criticisms of the work on Jack as a whole which rather gave away the fact that they had not properly read the entire thing. The writer was polite however and I could feel my mind already formulating a response while my hand twitched to have a quill in my grip.

I looked up to find Yennefer looking at me with a slight smirk on her lips.

"I must confess," she told me. "That I particularly enjoy replying to the rude ones so perhaps you would oblige me by setting those aside so that I might answer them and call them out for the idiots that they are. But I think it is high time that you pull your weight on this, more boring, side of academic work. I have your working desk here as well as some parchment, quills and ink. I will join you when I can and should you run out of letters to read or manuscripts to check, there is always more."

I read the letter again and pulled over a piece of parchment to start drafting my reply.

I once wrote that no one can ever claim that I am difficult to manipulate. Least of all me. And I am pleased to say that this particular aspect of my character hasn't changed.

So now that I had a subject to get my teeth into, I found that my days started to fill up.

The dwarves turned up with a preliminary sculpt for an arm prosthetic. Little more than a carved lower arm that they strapped up. Not for the first time during that whole process, I was reminded about visiting the tailor's shop and about how I was the least important person there. They spent a bit of time telling me about what they had in mind for the leg prosthetics but other than that there was not much to develop. The wooden arm was surprisingly heavy and the dwarf in question frowned when I complained, telling me that I should "grow stronger" thus echoing old comments from Skelligans which I took to be an omen of some kind.

I didn't know what it foretold but even so.

I was ordered to have it strapped onto my arm in the morning and to take it off to go to bed so that I could get used to the weight of it. Eventually, they had something else in mind and they left me with the impression that I was not the only one having input into the new contraption.

I think it was a couple of days after that when my sister and Laurelen came to see me.

My sleep patterns were not settling down so I was vacillating between only sleeping a couple of hours a night, all the way through towards sleeping twelve to thirteen hours a day. They were still encouraging me in this so I didn't fight it too hard. I was ordered that my body knew what it was doing and I was encouraged to rest when I needed to rest and to occupy my mind when I needed to work. The sheer amount of paperwork that Yennefer piled on top of me was more than enough and when I thought I had answered all of the letters that she had left me she would turn up with another sack of letters, other than the really venomous ones that, as requested, I set aside for her.

She took delight in answering those letters as well. She showed me one of her responses and I have to admit that if I received a letter like that, it would more than likely cause my soul to leave my body.

I was getting stronger. Not just because of the new and foreign weight on my shoulders. But because my body was beginning to regularly take on the nutrients. My body was on the mend and although I had nightmares and all of the normal things that proceed after having a horrific time, the work that Lady Yennefer was setting me on was a good distraction. I missed the people and I longed to see Ariadne and Kerrass and the mysteries of all the politics that were going around that was being kept from me were plaguing me, so I knew that what I was doing was a distraction. It was a good distraction, all but tailor-made for me, but it was a distraction nonetheless.

I was not yet in a state where I could leave bed for much more than using the bath, the chamber-pot and those times when the sheets needed changing. I was looking forward to sitting in a chair again and although luxurious, the upper room of the Rosemary and Thyme was beginning to feel like a prison.

They had brought some new leg prosthetics for me to see and for me to try on. It turned out that my stumps were still a bit tender for usage but the possibility that I might be able to totter around soon was a balm to the nerves.

So there I was. Answering another interminable letter from someone who had written to me about how such and such a series of murders was definitely the work of Jack where I could point out that the person who had done it had been caught, had confessed without prompting or use of intensive questioning and that there were all of the normal things like motive, evidence, opportunity and all of the other things that go with trying a murder.

The writer was trying to tell me that it was all part of some vast coverup and was suggesting that I was part of a grand conspiracy from the local lord.

Lady Yennefer was right. It is sometimes fun to skewer these people in the way that they need to be skewered.

So it was in the middle of all of this that Emma and Laurelen tried to come and visit me. I say try because it didn't last very long. I didn't know they were coming. People had been coming in and out all the time and there was rarely a time that I was left alone. Samantha, Lady Yennefer, Tulip, Father Anchor, an infrequent Princess Dorn who was turning out to be a real card sharp judging by the way that she regularly thrashed me at Gwent. There were also doctors and those Dwarves that were working on getting my prosthetic limbs ready so what happened was that I heard a shocked little grunt and I looked up to see the pair of them standing in the doorway.

Laurelen looked the better of the two but that didn't say very much about it at all. Both of them had had their hair grown out. Both of them had lost quite a bit of weight and both of them looked really tired. Laurelen was better in that there was some light in her eyes and a look of brightness about her. It was the look of someone that had spent a long time in a dark place and had just emerged to be able to see the sun. She wore a nice dress and had her hair done up in something resembling a hairstyle. She had entered the room first and as I looked up, she had been leading Emma into the room. One of her hands was still reaching out to Emma as though they had been holding hands and Laurelen was looking back at Emma in confusion.

I stand by the many statements that I have made in the past when I say that Emma is one of the most beautiful women I know and I have met a significant portion of the Lodge of Sorceresses. But she looked dreadful. Painfully thin and drawn with large dark circles around her eyes. Her hair looked thin and brittle and she had pulled it back into a sharp braid. She wore a simple dress and a voluminous cloak and as I looked up to see who it was that had come into the room, her eyes were shining and brimming with tears.

Looking back, I guessed that the hand that Laurelen had been holding to help her into the room had been pulled back and it was this hand that had covered her mouth.

It was her that had grunted.

It all happened very fast.

Emma was looking at me in horror. There were so many emotions that were on her face that I can't easily pick them all apart but I saw horror, fear and despair at the very least.

She looked from me to Laurelen and back to me as she covered her mouth with both hands now as the tears started to roll down her cheeks.

And she made no sound at all.

Her mouth was open and her hands started to flap at her mouth as she looked at Laurelen with horror and dismay. She looked, for all the world, as though she was retching.

I called her name I think because she looked at me. Emma grasped at her own throat before looking back at Laurelen. She was coughing and choking and then she looked at me again with something… I have no idea what it was in her eyes but she looked back at me and a…

I think I want to call it a grunt. It was not a wail, or a cry or a moan. It was something else. It was a noise torn from a throat and she made that noise as she literally turned and fled. Her face haunts me still, even as I write this. I have seen that expression on wraiths as they screech and scream their loathing and dismay. The expression of horror and… I don't know. It was the expression of a woman that has been told that their child has died. It was the expression of a…

I don't know what I'm saying. She looked like she wanted to claw her own throat out and put out her own eyes.

I called out to her, trying to reach her, desperately trying to reassure her or try to reach her and let her know something while also trying to reach for my big sister, the only family I had left.

I saw Laurelen look at me in dismay before she chased after Emma.

I fell, it was the first time I properly forgot that I was missing limbs and I fell out of bed with it. My tears blurred my vision as I called out my sister's name. As I screamed it really. I had not known that I wanted my sister until the time came that she was there and that she was leaving me.

I was not down there for long as a muttering Samantha and Lady Yennefer came in, warned by Emma's flight and Laurelen's chasing after her. I was quickly lifted back into bed and healed from the injuries that I had inflicted on myself in my desperate need to get to my sister and tell her that everything was going to be alright.

Because that had been what I was trying to do. I was trying to wrap my sister in my arms and I wanted to hold her, to help her and to…

And I felt guilty too.

I had been trapped in this bed and this room. I had asked after Emma and Laurelen and been told that they were physically alright but that Emma especially had been profoundly affected by what had happened in Coulthard castle. I found myself on the opposite ends of the scale to how she had once found me. I knew that she was hurt on some kind of intellectual level but I had not realised just how bad it was on an emotional level until I saw it.

I have known worse depths of despair but not many. But it was enough for Samantha to sit with me and hold me without her normal caustic humour and it was enough that I did not question the medicinal drink when she put it to my lips.

The following day I did not work, but the day after that Laurelen came into the room and looked down at me with sorrow on her face.

"I am so sorry Freddie." She told me. "So very sorry. We really fucked that one up."

It is always interesting, as I have said before when a beautiful woman decides to really swear.

She sat in the chair that was next to my bed.

"We had hoped that there would be some measure of healing for both of you if you saw each other but it would seem that we have only made the matter worse. Something that seems obvious when you look back on it." She chuckled but I could see that her hand was trembling. I reached out my own hand and she gratefully took my hand and we wept together for a while.

"Is she alright?" I asked when we had calmed a little.

"No," Laurelen, who was a bit behind me, wailed. "No of course not, how could you think she was alright? I mean…"

"Laurelen, I mean right now. Is she alright right now? I know that you're her support and you're here and…" I let myself smile a bit.

"Oh." She put her hand to her mouth and giggled. "Yeah, I should have seen that. She's fine. She's untangling everything. She's fine so long as she's working. Literally, that's the moment where she's EMMA you know?"

"I know."

"So we've got a little study set up for her. We're staying up at the family residence in town?"

I nodded to show that I understood.

"And she's untangling all the mess that she made of everything. There are other people with her and she will be laughing and joking and arguing with people. It's the only time she speaks now and…"

The tears were back in her eyes and she lifted her hand to her mouth to contain a sob.

Then she sighed.

"I knew that she was sick," I told her. "I didn't know how bad it was."

"Funny," Laurelen replied. "That's the same as what we thought about you. We knew about your injuries but we didn't know how bad it was until we saw you. Freddie, I am so so, very sorry."

I shook my head.

"I have my right hand, they've promised me enough prosthetics so that I can walk and at least there will be enough of a weight on my left arm so that I can keep the paper steady as I write. I will be ok."

"Your left hand will be able to do more than write." She smiled as she said it. "There is a lot of guilt flying around about what has happened to us and even if you and your sister were not you and your sister, I don't think you would need to worry about the future."

"I am not the only one so injured and…"

"And that very sentiment is why people feel so guilty." She told me. Lady Eilhart especially has made some very precise demands about what she expects from your prosthetic left arm."

I laughed at the thought.

"The mind boggles," I told her and she laughed.

We sat together for a moment, letting the silence lengthen and then a thought occurred.

"What do you mean? 'Untangle the mess she made?" I wondered.

Laurelen nodded and looked at the door.

"There is a lot going on and I probably shouldn't answer." She told me. "There are orders to keep you and your sister out of it all at the moment and I can see why. But…" her face hardened. "Fuck 'em."

She looked at me appraisingly.

"Also Freddie, I'm sorry, but I don't know where Ariadne is. I wish I did. There are several people that I just want to hold onto tightly. Emma, you and her. I didn't enjoy the thought of losing the family that you gave me." She took a deep breath. "Powers but it felt so good to have brothers and sisters again."

I nodded and let my own grief loose for a while before Laurelen audibly swallowed it again.

"There are a lot of heroes." She said, "A lot of heroes were involved in what happened. You not least. Kerrass as well and lots of wonderful people that…" She shook her head. "But when the book of this all gets to be written, probably by you."

I laughed and told her that I had done my part. She looked at me strangely then and looking back, I wonder if she knew more than I did or how much she was letting on.

"But still," she continued. "Two of those heroes that did more than some will realise are Emma and Ariadne." She shook her head in wonder. "How she did it I don't know. Ariadne was a slave to Kalayn's will."

It turned out that Laurelen is not the only person that cannot say Sam's name.

"But she found ways to obey the letter of his instructions while disobeying the intent. There are a lot of people that she saved, and they know that she saved them, because she deliberately didn't see them or would search an area by facing a corner of the room or walking down a corridor to one side facing the wall. There's more and you can be proud of her Freddie. She could not do much but that woman fought."

"I believe it," I told her, feeling the pride grow in my chest.

"She fought Freddie. Kerrass was not the only life that she saved and you don't know it but… In the end, after she was free. She went through the castle like a demon and freed those captives remaining and saw to it that they were free before she fled."

I nodded and hung my head.

"I'm going to find her," I told the Sorceress. "I am going to find her."

"I know Freddie." She told me, putting her hand on my arm. "And I will hug her like a sister when you do."

She didn't believe it, not really, I could see the doubt in her eyes. But I decided not to pursue it.

"The other hero though." Laurelen told me, "Is Emma. All of that time that Kalayn was ordering her to liquidate the Coulthard trading company to fund the rebellion. What she was doing was writing coded letters to her factors and agents so that, even if she was caught then Kalayn would never get his hands on any of that money."

"Oh, Emma." I felt like my chest would burst.

Laurelen saw the pride in me and nodded.

"In the same way that it would easily be said that your Father provided the arms and armour that kept Nilfgaard out of the North for so long, we will look back and tell people that the reason Kalayn's troops did not have the arms or supplies or the mercenaries that they could have had, was because your sister sat there, in arms reach and under the noses of so many men and wrote coded letters to tell people what to do."

Laurelen shook her head.

"There are many reasons I love your sister but I do not have that kind of courage." She told me. "I would have broken. Indeed I did. I was Kalayn's pet mage just as much as Ariadne was. But there you were and there Emma was, working against him right under his nose."

She shook her head again.

"So how sick is she?" I wondered.

"She can't speak." Laurelen grimaced. "Physically she's fine. The Doctors are calling it 'selective, trauma-based muteness.' When she's working she can talk about business and things but the moment that one of the lawyers that have known her for a long time starts to enquire about the future outside of mercantile things. Or when they ask about the castle or what happened… It's as though there is just no voice there. She tries. You saw it the other day. She tries to the point of doing herself injury. But it's literally as though there is nothing there."

"Can she speak to you?"

"A bit. In private when there's no one else… Powers Freddie but it's breaking my heart. She is even silent when she weeps."

I nodded. "So she can keep the noise from Sam so that he doesn't get angry with her."

"That's what I thought as well. I can all too easily imagine that filth beating her if she's in the corner sobbing while she is supposed to be working. Although I think it might be more complicated than that."

"It's always more complicated than that."

Laurelen grimaced before she nodded. "She can write though. Like you, she can still write. I would expect that you and she will be passing letters to each other for a while. She is working her way up to coming back again and I would expect that she will manage it in a day or two."

"I am desperate to see her," I whispered. "I had not realised how much."

"It's understandable. You are all you each have left after all."

"No," I said. "She has you and you have us too. Family, despite what the church might say."

"Thank you." She told me. "For everything Freddie. From day one you have worked to make that a reality. I always thought that Emma was overestimating you when I first got to know you but you…" She stopped. "You are the brother I never had."

We hugged briefly and she left.

Sure enough, Emma got to me two days later. She and Laurelen stood at the door for a moment while Emma stood and looked at me. I was sobbing and I just held my arms wide and she gave a little grunt and then I was holding my sobbing sister who shook with the violence of the sobs that wracked her body.

Still silent.

Laurelen joined us and we were a long time before the grief started to subside.

After that development, time seemed to pass slowly with not much happening. The order to keep me away from anything political had not been relaxed and as such, this meant that I was kept from seeing many of the people that I longed to see. Svein, Kar and Thorvald would come and I knew that they were regularly in the building. But I was never allowed to see Helfdan. Svein once told me that he wanted to come and that he had passed on messages of sorrow and that should everything all fall apart for me on the continent, then he and the Queen of Skellige would welcome an advisor of my capabilities in the islands.

But he did not come to see me himself, nor did anyone tell me what he was doing.

Nor was I allowed to see the Ducal delegation from Toussaint. I didn't even know all of the people that were in it. I knew that Guillaume and Lady Vivienne were around and I also knew that Sir Gregoire and Lady Anne, his wife, had come North as part of the delegation given Gregoire's attendance during my stag party. But who else was there? And why were they not allowed to come and see me? I do not know and I didn't know then.

After the brief and dramatic reintroduction to each other Emma and Laurelen would come and see me regularly. Sometimes Laurelen would come by herself but Emma was always in the company of the other woman and I could see that she was getting worse. Even the small sounds that she could make before, the grunts and the like were beginning to subside and where she had expressed frustration at the lack of sound that her throat could generate, now she just looked silent and resigned. Laurelen insisted that when she was "working" she could still be animated and work as hard as the rest of them, but she was even, at times, struggling to speak to the woman that shared her love with.

Laurelen confided in me, in which she informed me that she had told Emma that she was preparing herself for a long road to recovery with Emma as well as trying to let herself come to terms with the fact that Emma might never speak again.

Other than to discuss trade tariffs of course.

We, all three of us, later laughed at that. Emma smiled a little but it was clear that my sister was still in there somewhere, still wanting to get out but Laurelen was right. She was struggling to keep herself interested.

As it turns out, they were living in the Coulthard residence in Novigrad at the moment. The place had come out of it all surprisingly unscathed which was, apparently, part of the work of the Skelligans but no one could explain to me why this might have been the case. I wondered why the three of us could not be housed together and I was told that a couple of doctors had decided that if the three of us were together, we might make a tempting target for enemies. So someone had decided that we needed to be split up.

I was the hidden one while Emma was the bait. They didn't tell me that of course but it seemed fairly clear to me that this might have been the case. It did not do my sense of humour much good to think of this.

Laurelen tried to tell me that they were in the townhouse so that Emma could have access to one of her studies and that the records that were in the Novigrad house were almost as good as the ones that had been in Castle Coulthard. That Emma needed to work and as such, that was the best place for her.

I believed them. But I also wondered if that was the only reason that this was the case.

Other than that, I was now beginning to insist that I be allowed to get dressed. Even if I couldn't yet leave the room. The indignity of being in bedclothes all the time was beginning to be oppressive. A tailor was sent for and I was measured again although the man despaired, pointing out that I would be putting on new weight and new muscle mass by the time I was used to having prosthetics on the ends of three of my limbs so having new clothes made was a preposterous exercise.

I was not involved in the negotiation but Emma wrote him a note. She does that now more than speaking and what he read in the note made him pale a little bit.

Beyond that, I was also brought the prosthetics that would be my new feet and I started learning to walk again. It was horrific.

The thought had kept me going for a long time that soon, I would be able to move around under my own methods and my own strengths. The untold luxury of being able to get up and go to relieve myself on my own and without help from anyone else was like a shining moment in the future. As well as that, the prospect that I could go and do things and see things and act accordingly.

I wanted to leave now. I loved and still love the Rosemary and Thyme, but it was rapidly becoming my prison. I wanted to eat somewhere else. I wanted to stroll down to the Novigrad docks and sit in one of the parks.

And now that I had my new feet there was a moment, just a moment, where I hoped that this moment had finally arrived.

Of course, I was being naive. If the hardest thing I have ever done was asking Ariadne to marry me and the second hardest thing I have ever done was learning to kill. Then this, relearning how to walk on my new wooden feet was third and there have been times when it has crept up the list.

The thing that sent me back to bed to weep was the sheer frustration of it. The entire process was just… so slow. I wanted to do things, I wanted to walk around. I wanted to go downstairs and listen to the minstrels play. After all, I was all but living under the roof of the greatest bard on the continent.

And his wife.

And I was upstairs listening to faint and distant noises.

The process was awful and I spent more than one night crying myself to sleep with the sheer frustration of it.

Ciri came to see me when I was in the process of doing this one day. I was just in my shirt and a ragged pair of… essentially short trousers as I walked backwards and forward across the floor. To be fair to the dwarves and gnomes that had made these, my new feet, they were works of art. Minor miracles in the arts of engineering. There was spring and rotation in the ankles so there was give and bounce where there should be. But the extra straps, the extra weight and the new sense of balance that I had to develop while all of that was going on were…

It hurt.

It now made sense as to why so much time and effort had been put into making sure that the ends of my stumps had been properly worked up to withstand the friction and the pressure. No amount of padding or cushioning could make up for what was going on there.

So we just worked at it and I worked with it. It was hard. Mind achingly hard and I was not doing well with it. People like Samantha and Laurelen were insisting that I was doing better and that I was getting there. And they were probably right. In the same way that I would get frustrated with it while I was learning to fight from Kerrass. But there, I was learning a completely new skill. But this? I was relearning how to walk.

I was not falling when things were violently different. I was falling when my body and mind started to take things for granted. And then the extra weight of the things and the strange shapes that went with it would catch me out and send me stumbling.

What I had done was a switch from walking the length of the room to now walking laps of the room. I was going in one direction but when I was feeling particularly spicy I would go the other way. It was that level of thinking that I was up to.

And that was all there was to do. The stimulation of writing letters and going over plans for new books and things was an empty… pass time. I could do it for a while but sooner or later, all other questions would come to the fore. What was happening at Coulthard Castle? People still talked as though we still had enemies, who were they? Why were they not destroyed? Why was it so vital that I be kept from the politics of everything?

I had given up trying to ask as those people that were in the know were deliberately being kept from me. I received messages of well wishes and love, but I could not see them and the need to know was a background… annoyance that would conspire to keep me awake at night.

And then Ciri came to see me. She was dressed as Ciri this time. Not the half guise of Empress that she had worn before. She came in and cracked a joke at me before I told her to fuck off. She laughed and I told her to stay out of the way and she laughed, holding her hands up as she watched me walk around in circles.

"Is it getting easier?" She wondered.

"What the fuck do you think?" I wondered.

"Easy." She smirked. "I was just asking."

"And I was just wondering about how I can come over there, take my wooden leg off and beat you to death with it."

"I can teleport from one place to the other at will." She told me, picking a chair well out of the way of my flailing walking stick. "I am pretty sure that I can evade your wrath."

"I would find a way," I told her as I sweated. It was hard work and after every session of this, I found that I was sweating more than I had when training with Kerrass at the height of summer.

"You probably would at that," Ciri admitted, pouring herself a cup of wine. "After all, the man who had defeated the cult dismissed the Skeleton Ship, talked to a dragon and woke up sleeping beauty is capable of many things."

"Not exactly calming me down are you," I told her.

"Didn't say I was meaning to."

I swore at her quietly, trying to keep my breath so that I could focus on what I was doing.

"You know…" She began quietly. "That there are spells that can make your feet behave the way that you remember them too. You could be walking tomorrow?" A thought occurred to her. "Well maybe not tomorrow, but it could be done."

"It has been mentioned," I told her. "As it has also been mentioned that my eventual hand can be enchanted to move as a normal hand would."

Ciri nodded. "You don't sound convinced.

This was not a new argument for me.

"Magic can do many things," I told her. "But I also know that magic degrades and can become dangerous. But that is not the real reason."

"Then what is the real reason?" she wondered.

"How many people are missing limbs? Just from what Sam did alone?" I wondered of her. "How many from the last war or the one before that? The head of Imperial Intelligence for Novigrad is still missing a hand."

"Former head of intelligence." Ciri interrupted before looking sheepish. "Sorry, I should not have said that."

"Why not?"

"Politics." We both said.

"He was a good man," I argued.

"No Freddie." She said, "No he wasn't, but that didn't become clear until after he sat in judgement over you. I would tell you more but…" She shrugged. "The answers are coming. I promise. Hopefully in the next couple of days. But you were telling me about how you think…"

"Yeah. So are you going to pay for the expensive prosthetics that every cripple, whether from war or accident needs? And are you then going to pay for the magic that will be needed to keep them working in the meantime?"

"It would not be a wasted effort." She admitted. "But it would be expensive."

I grunted my agreement.

"It is not lost on me Ciri," I began. "That these feet of mine are well made and designed by the best minds that the North can offer. I am already ahead of the matter by not simply having a shoe on the end of a peg leg. And I cannot drive that into the face of others that do not have my advantages."

"You may have to," she warned.

"If the day comes where I need that magic to make my hand, or my feet work to do… whatever comes next, then I will take that as it comes. But for now…" I shook my head.

"That day may come sooner than you think." She warned.

I looked at her for a while and she had a thoughtful expression. I shuffled over to a chair and sat in it.

"What are you plotting, Ciri?" I wondered.

"Many, many things Freddie." She told me with a slightly unhappy smile.

I peered at her, and carefully leant on my stick. I was swiftly learning that I needed to treat this walking stick the same way that I had been treating my spear. I always needed it close to hand and I always needed to know where it was.

Otherwise, I would fall and I would be lost.

"What are you plotting, Ciri?" I wondered.

She peered at me for a long moment, mirroring my stance and I saw that she was still in the habit of cradling her sword like it was a baby. Some form of self-comforting thing I think.

"You know that you have a weakness for when people ask you for help?" She asked suddenly, leaning back.

"I do," I replied, leaning back. One of the benefits of having prosthetics on the ends of my legs means that I no longer just slide out of chairs. "Kerrass has used it against me on a couple of occasions. And still, again, there have been occasions where people take advantage of it to make my life difficult."

She nodded.

"So I don't want to ask you for help," she told me. "I want you to make an informed decision and then decide what you want to do."

"Do you need my help?"

"Need? No." She thought about it. "Want? Yes, definitely. I need people I can trust as it seems that there aren't that many of them." She held her hands up to ward off the question. "Don't ask me about who I refer to, but there are several people that have let me down recently. I mean… nothing compared to the number of people that have let you down but still."

I nodded.

"What's going on Ciri?" I asked.

"Lots." She answered cryptically. "Sorry, I know I'm being awkward and there is no one I would rather confide in, but I can't because if you are the man to solve my issue, I need you to be fresh and unbiased."

"Ah." I said, "Politics. I should have recognised the stench of it."

"Yes." Ciri agreed. "There is a lot of it around. In short, you were tried and found innocent. We can now look everyone in the eye and tells them that you knew and know nothing about what's going on and we can do that while telling the truth."

"When you say 'everyone' you mean…"

"More people that I cannot tell you about. If you can just be patient for another couple of days?"

"What happens in a couple of days?" I wondered automatically.

"You will be able to walk just enough to get the job done, but not so well that people can downplay your injuries," she answered promptly.

"Fucking hell Ciri," I was appalled.

"I know Freddie. Believe me, but even as I sit here, some people want to downplay how badly hurt you are. We rushed things through and I am sorry for that. If I could only be your friend and adopted sister, then believe me I would be doing that."

She sighed and leant forward again. "I am even being a bit cowardly coming here today."

"Ok, that you will need to explain."

She stared into space for a moment, getting her thoughts in a row and when she moved, she moved suddenly.

"You have two real options in front of you," she said, resting her sword on her shoulder and gesturing with her hands. "The first is exile. Not a punishment exile but the simple fact of the matter is that the North is not going to work out for you if you want to be private. There are multiple places you can go with our blessing and I have lined up a number for you to choose from. First, you can go to Skellige where Cerys and Helfdan will look after you. You need to be anonymous if you go, so you will be Freddie the scribbler to them and you will be important, loved and powerful…"

She paused and looked at me sideways.

"I should also say that there is still no sign of Ariadne. We just can't find her and we are running out of ideas there. But if you go, I know that there are plenty of women that would…"

"Don't even say it Ciri," I snarled. "Don't even breathe it."

She nodded, watching my face closely.

"Likewise, Toussaint has offered that you go and live there with similar offers of services that you can provide and… the other thing as well."

I kept hold of my temper better this time.

"Then you will be Sir Freddie of… whatever you want to be. You will still be anonymous as there are still enemies out there that would be after your blood but Toussaint would love and protect you."

I was waiting for the other shoe to drop and I think that Ciri could sense that.

"If neither of those suits you and you wish for a completely new start. I need new ambassadors for Zerrikania and Ofier. You would go and live the life of an honoured guest and…"

"Ciri…" I felt my voice rise in a warning. The suspicion was growing that the person sitting in front of me was dressed as Ciri, my friend and adopted sister, but really, I was talking to the Empress.

"You can do these things," she told me, "and no one will blame you, least of all me and the people that care about you. But you cannot stay here as you are."

I stared at her for a long time, her green eyes were hard.

"There is another option isn't there." It was not a question.

"There is," Ciri admitted. "The other option is that I reward your loyalty, injury and powers know what else with work, enemies, duty and… battle I suppose is the word that I am working towards."

I thought about it.

"What about Emma? And Laurelen for that matter?"

"Emma is staying here. We need her."

I nodded and I was surprised about how much my next question hurt.

"More than me?" I wondered. I didn't want to ask it but it rather occurred to me that if I didn't ask the question, then it would fester in the back of my head.

"She can do things that you no-one else can," she told me. "I want you, but if you can't, or won't, and as I say, no one would blame you if that was the case, then I can find someone else. I don't want to but…"

The words were left hanging.

"Then I will stay," I told her.

"You can go back to hating me if you wish." She told me as she climbed to her feet. "I mean to make you powerful Freddie, but I couldn't bring you to court for you to turn me down in front of everyone. That would be catastrophic."

"I can imagine," I told her. I mean I couldn't but even so.

I think she saw that as she looked down at me.

"I will let you get back to your exercises, Freddie."

I levered myself to my feet before a thought occurred.

"Ciri?"

She turned back.

"Are you really looking for Ariadne? And if you are, do you mean to make her a scapegoat for everything that…?"

I watched a little bit of Ciri's soul die in her eyes and her gaze sank from mine.

"I am truly sorry," she said before realising that her words would generate horror. "No no, Freddie. Not about that. I am sorry that I have made you distrust me that much."

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Ariadne is as much of a victim as everyone is. She is also as much of a hero as you are, Emma is, Kerrass is… There is so much heroism to go around that there is an idea floating around the court at the moment that we need to invent a new honour to recognise the people that were involved in this. There is almost as much heroism here as there is guilt."

She sighed.

"But I cannot deny that it would be easier for everyone if she stays lost and you find another bride."

"I won't," I told her.

"I know that," she smirked. "I know that and you know that. But it would make life easier for a lot of people, me not least."

"When did it become my job to make your life easy?" I wondered with no small amount of bitterness.

Her gaze hardened.

"As of a few moments ago when you made your choice." She told me.

I nodded.

"I will see you in a couple of days Freddie," she told me. "And in the times to come, you and I will laugh about all of this bullshit."

"Will we?" I wondered. "Flame but I hope so."

And she was gone.

So I had to prepare for a coming court visit and none of it was under my control. The entire process has happened to me before, but my injuries meant that there was a new level of horror involved which meant that I could not move too much under my own steam.

The tailor came first, almost as Ciri left, he came in with his piece of knotted string and the clerk that was there to take notes and make sure that everything was carefully noted down. I feel sorry for that tailor as it was clear that we were both under orders and that his work was largely pointless. I don't think that either of us saw the best part of the other that day.

From his perspective, my new presentation suit was only going to be worn once. I knew it and he knew it. Why only once? Because I was still recovering. Do not kid yourself dear reader, but not only was I dealing with the loss of limbs but long-term privations, sickness and injury can do things to a man's body. As can the recovery from that instance. I was still struggling to put on weight and what energy I was taking in was being devoted to relearning how to walk with my new prosthesis. I still got tired easily, I still got sick and fell into fainting spells. I would regularly need to stop and vomit as I tried to eat too much out of a misguided attempt to take on the weight and recover faster.

Listen to your doctors. They know more than you when it comes to this kind of thing.

And none of that involved my recovery from the mental stresses of everything. The best that could be said about that was that my relatively recent history in Toussaint and with everything meant that I now had the language to deal with all of that as well as the techniques and skills to calm myself down. Also, Samantha was experienced with dealing with me at my worst and we had an existing shorthand on how to deal with all of that.

But I missed Ariadne fiercely. At some point, our link had been cut off and although I screamed into it, there was nothing there. I didn't even have the faintest sense of her and it would send me to weeping more days than it would not.

They say that when you are in the depths of the frost you must keep moving forwards because to stay still is to freeze to death and that was what it felt like. So do not assume, despite my attempts at humour and my descriptions of cards and dice and things, that life was going well.

So the suit was only going to be worn once. Therefore the tailor thought that the effort was beneath him and he was probably right.

I had no say in what I was wearing at all and I was, frankly, disgusted and furious with what the suit entailed. I was wearing an outfit of military cut and the sleeve of my left arm had been folded back on itself to display my missing arm.

It was not a uniform, but it evoked that feeling. I was angry and I let the poor man have it. But he was under orders and so was I, so I would wear the suit with its absurd threading and cut. It made me look like a scarecrow. A hobbling scarecrow or some kind of constructed… monster made out of wood and lose bits of cloth and flesh. I was a horror show made to frighten children. I could almost hear people pointing at me and telling children, "Don't go to war or you will come back looking like that," and for all, I know that was the point.

But most of all, I didn't and still don't think I deserve the military air. I am and remain, a scholar. Occasionally I am a courtier and I hated this austere attempt at making me a military hero.

But everything in court is a statement. Everything has a purpose and what I was going to be wearing was one of those statements.

As was my hair that was tied back and on the morning of the day itself, the fact that a barber arrived gave me a very peculiar shave. The man was amongst the best in Novigrad as I had gone to him for the shave that I had received before the day that was supposed to be my wedding day.

But this time he shaved me so that it looked as though I had tried to shave myself and given my lack of arm, it meant that my beard was uneven.

Looking back, the artifice was obvious. They were making it look as though I had dragged myself from my sick bed to attend the court. As was my duty.

Which was largely true and was kind of what I was doing. The fact that all of these professionals had been involved to aid in the same artifice would have been funny if it wasn't so tragic.

The morning dawned. I rose early to bathe and have a full breakfast. There was something herbal in that breakfast although I don't know what it was. Something a little bit extra to give me some energy and to take some of the pain and discomfort away. I suspect Samantha.

The lady herself came and gave me a huge hug before I got changed out of my normal clothes and said nothing before fleeing. Father Anchor also came and solemnly shook my hand without saying a word.

"It feels like you're all saying goodbye to me," I said, trying for a joke.

"End of this phase," the priest said. "This small domestic haven." Then he grinned. "This small domestic haven surrounded by bloodthirsty Skelligan barbarians in one of the most famous inns and taverns on the face of the continent and increasingly becoming on first-name terms with some of the movers and shakers of that continent."

He was right, it was kind of funny.

Tulip also hugged me but then I was given over to the tailor, the hairdresser and their various assistants to make sure that I looked properly… I don't know… Skeletal?

There was a whoosh in the backyard that I recognised as a transport gate being opened and I know that a few people used it in the meantime before it closed.

It took a long time for me to get dressed and it was astonishingly tiring. There had to be breaks several times for me to sit down and get my breath back as even standing for long periods seemed to take it out of me. I felt like a baby, having people talk over me and move around and just manhandle me into this and that. I hated the entire process and I may say that I made the people that were there work for it.

I was nearly done though when Lady Yennefer knocked and came in. She was wearing the courtly version of her normal black and silver outfit. She always knocked when she was coming in. She would knock and then enter regardless of whether or not I was ready for her.

"How do I look?" I asked her. Trying for levity and failing miserably.

"Absolutely awful," She told me. "Which is part of the point isn't it."

"What point?"

"I don't know," she began. "But I suspect that people are being shown just how much of an effect this has had on you and that you are not, after all, relatively unscathed from your brother's actions."

"Who would think that?" I wondered.

"Anyone who dislikes you or has something to lose I suspect,"

"Huh."

"This is not one of the little, almost friendly courtrooms that you have been in before. This will not be Skellige or Beauclair. This is going to be the Imperial Court. You have some skill in this arena, but it is just enough to get you hanged."

I nodded, accepting the point.

"You will have friends in the room," she went on with her briefing while they finished arranging things to their satisfaction. "Not least, the one in charge of it. But be careful."

"I will do my best."

Suddenly Yennefer smiled at me. A rare occurrence which astonished me.

"Having said that," she went on, "today is your day. Not the day you wanted but some people are going to be angry after today and you should enjoy it."

"Are you going to enjoy it?" I wondered as I straightened up and leant on my canes.

"Some of my enemies are getting their noses tweaked today. Damn, straight I'm going to enjoy it." Her grin turned predatory.

I took a couple of deep breaths and looked around the room.

"I'm never coming back here, am I," I said.

"You may." She replied. "You will need a staging ground."

I looked at her sharply but she was turning away. She gestured at the wall and made a series of gestures. I had seen those gestures before and gripped my cane tightly so that they didn't get blown away. When the black, swirling vortex appeared I stood before it, suddenly nervous.

"Do you need help?" Yennefer asked.

I shook my head and shuffled through.

I came out of the gate in a quite pleasantly appointed private study. I had not been in the room before but it would have seemed that I was the last person to arrive.

As I say, it was a nice room. There was a hearth at one end that was burning away merrily. The wooden floors were covered with thick rugs and the walls were covered in tapestries. That was where they were not also covered in shelves with scrolls and books and all of the related paraphernalia. There was also a small table that was arrayed with a variety of drinks and decanters.

Framed on one of the walls was a pencil sketch of the Empress. I had never seen it before.

As I say, it seemed as though I was the last one to arrive. Lord Geralt was there, standing at the drinks table and he seemed to be acting as something of a host. He looked up to see Lady Yennefer enter the room before he poured her a small cup of something and raised his eyebrows at me.

I shook my head. I wanted to make sure that I was sober. I longed for a drink though. The same kind of desire that you can almost taste and just as that was in my throat, I rather thought it would be better if I didn't drink. If I needed a drink that badly, then I shouldn't have one.

The people that I noticed were Emma and Laurelen. Emma looked like a ghost, frighteningly pale with her hair pulled back from her face leaving the rather unfortunate impression that her head was a skull. She wore a long, completely enclosing grey dress with a ruff around her neck. There was no ornamentation on her at all but I rather suspected that the cloth would be fairly expensive. She looked… faint and I thought I could see her trembling. She rushed over to me but stopped just short.

At that moment, she reminded me of Tulip. She had stopped even trying to talk fairly recently but she was developing a very expressive face. She was asking me if I was alright.

"If I can keep my feet," I told her. "I will be fine."

Lord Geralt brought over a chair and positioned it behind me while Emma helped me settle down into it. I didn't need her help as the manoeuvre was becoming increasingly practised and familiar to me, but it rather felt as though she needed to help me.

Laurelen watched. She had an attitude approaching frustration, reluctance and anger. She saw me looking and smiled unhappily before shaking her head.

She wasn't angry with me for which I was grateful.

There were two doors in the room and there was a guard at each of them, both of them in the black armour of the Imperial Guard.

"Welcome to the royal palace of Vizima." Yennefer said, carefully setting aside the cup that Geralt had handed her.

"Can we get Emma and Freddie something to eat?" Laurelen wondered. Again, there was an edge of frustrated anger in her tone. "I rather think that they will need it."

Geralt and Yennefer exchanged nods and Geralt went to one of the doors and spoke to the guard who then stepped through for a moment before returning.

As is true with all of these things, we had been told to hurry up and wait. Some pastries were brought. They were undeniably delicious and again, I felt the benefits of the herbal additions that had been put in my breakfast. I was dimly aware that I was going to pay a price for what was going on later. But for the right here and right now, I didn't think it mattered.

We made small talk. We were in the wing of the palace that was set aside for ambassador and bureaucrat meetings. It turned out that we were in the very room where Lord Geralt and Lady Yennefer had once arranged the rescue of the Empress.

Laurelen finally admitted that she was annoyed that Emma and I had been dragged out here before she, Laurelen, thought that we were ready for it. Yennefer told her that that was the point. It had the feel of an argument that both of them had gone through several times and that there was nothing that either of them could do to address it further in either direction.

Lady Yennefer told me that there was still no sign of Ariadne and after that, she and Lord Geralt regaled us with some anecdotes about what had been going on in Toussaint since we had last visited. It was pointless stuff. The language of people that were waiting for something momentous to happen. Small stories that make you laugh but not too much. Asking and mentioning old friends but not going into too much detail in case you are about to get interrupted at any time.

The food turned to ash in my belly.

In the end, the other door was opened wide.

Emma was pale as a sheet and I didn't feel that much better as I climbed back to what I am still learning to call 'my feet'. Lord Geralt walked alongside me as I went through the door. He did his best in pretending that he was there to be my companion but it was not lost on me that he was positioned and ready in case I should fall.

Emma walked behind me. Openly trembling and holding onto Laurlen's hands so hard that Laurelen's hands turned white.

We emerged into a covered walkway and walked around the small garden. It was snowing in Vizima. The courtyard was surrounded by soldiers and servants were running around although I noticed that they stopped and made way for our small party.

We came to the large door that I took to be the entry into the throne room and again, guards on the door told us to wait. Yennefer looked unsurprised.

I turned to look at Emma, shivering but I didn't think it was with the cold.

"Look at us," I told her. "What would Father make of us now?" I tried to put humour into my voice and I thought I was rewarded with a small smile.

"He would be proud of you both," Laurelen said.

"I never met the man." Lord Geralt said in his raspy, deceptively warm voice. "But any Father would be proud."

"You never knew our Father." I joked and this time I was sure that Emma smirked.

Carefully to not unbalance me, Emma hugged me.

"I wish I could hug you back," I told her. "But I might fall on you and crush you." I was trying for lightness but she nodded and pulled back.

"Later," Laurelen said.

There was another pause.

Lady Yennefer tilted her head to one side and nodded to the guards on the door.

"Here we go," she said as the pair of them heaved the door open.

I have been in the throneroom of the royal palace in Vizima before. A large, open room that I found to be quite empty and echoey. I was never in the room when Foltest was King but according to witnesses, he liked it that way, preferring a martial air and not having too many places where people could huddle together in clumps to plot treason. Apparently, that is a direct quote.

It is a place of echoing footfalls and ringing voices. It was a very cold room when I visited it last. Some small changes had been made. The lilies of Temeria were back on the walls alongside the Golden Sun of Nilfgaard and the decor was a mixture of the two colours. The royal blue of Temeria and the black of Nilfgaard.

The room has been immortalised in paint on multiple occasions so I won't describe it in detail. A large hall with pillars holding up the roof. A semi-circular raised area with the throne at the centre is at one end with doors past it that lead further into the castle and the great towers that lead up to the royal suites and various other rooms.

And as I shuffled in, I wondered if even at the height of King Foltest's reign, the room had ever been this full.

The first task was to get to the central avenue so that we could walk towards the throne. The court did not step aside for us and they watched as we walked forward. I went slowly, leaning on my one with my right hand which was already aching. I wanted to stride forward and the need to do that was strong in me, but long experience with the practice steps had taught me that that kind of overconfidence would be punished by my rebellious limbs.

The room was silent. The bottom of my cane rattled on the tile floor. Emma and Laurelen walked beside me as Lord Geralt and Lady Yennefer vanished off somewhere.

Everyone turned and looked at us. And the sounds of that movement were deafening. The sounds of armour as those men, and a growing number of women, who wore armour to these kinds of courtly occasions clanked and rattled as they turned. Not just that though, but the footfalls of everyone as they shuffled around to look at us. The sounds of thick dresses and petticoats scraping against the floor and each other. All of it conspired to amplify each other into a cacophony of movement.

There were murmurs and gasps as well. Men and women speaking behind shielding hands to each other, bending to whisper small observations and witticisms. Some of it would be friendly to us, outrage on our behalf, astonishment at our appearances but others of it would be mocking, joking and teasing our weaknesses.

Like the desire to stride forward, injuries be damned, I also wanted to look around. I wanted to note those people that were laughing and those people that were being supportive. I also wanted to look for friends that I knew must be here. Sooner or later, there must be friends in the throng.

But like the urge to stride forwards, I knew that this would be a mistake. I needed to keep my eyes on what I was doing, concentrating on what was happening lest I trip over the flagstones and tiles. They might look flat and level to the naked eye but I should tell you that that is not the case for a person that is relearning how to walk.

So I focused on what I was doing. All the while, I knew exactly what I… What we looked like. We looked like a trio of people that were beaten. We were moving forward as though we were on our way to our eventual deaths. Our heads were bowed, shuffling forward as though we were reluctant to end up where we were going. We must have looked awful.

To my horror, I even had to stop for a breath and as I did, I glanced at Emma who was also head down, all but shrinking from the people around us. Not all that long ago, she would have been able to walk into a room like this one with the sure knowledge that most of the people there owed her money. And therefore she would have walked in, head high, daring any single one of them to meet her gaze.

Laurelen's gaze was no higher. She was watching the pair of us. The woman that she loved and the man that she claimed as her brother and so she also looked as though she was sharing our defeat. I took a breath and walked on, forcing myself to take the next step and the next step. The precarious moment when I had to move my cane and rest on my feet alone with my balance being so precarious.

Then we came to the end of the avenue. This, at least, had been carpeted and the three of us formed up there with Emma and Laurelen forming the points of the triangle behind me. We looked up and we could see the throne at the end of the avenue in which the Empress was sitting.

She was wearing armour.

I had never seen that part of her Imperial wardrobe before. I had seen the riding coats that talked about an Empress of action, someone who had things to do and didn't have the time to work around dresses with hoops and skirts and other such nonsense. I had also seen the proverbial dresses that told everyone exactly who she was. This was new and it told the room that she was done fucking around. This Empress was angry and was telling people that now was not the time to challenge her.

The crowd subsided. I tried desperately to see some friendly faces in the throng and although I thought I could see some people… I thought I could see some shining armour around some huge bulk which would suggest the Ducal delegation from Toussaint. The face of the Queen of Dorn also seemed to float in front of my vision as though I had seen her but when I looked, she was nowhere to be found.

The mass of red cassocks told me where the Eternal Flame delegation was and the similarly massed faction of dark blue cassocks told me where the church of Kreve had its ranks. But I could not make out the details. I desperately wanted to wipe my eyes to brush the blurring aside. But that would mean dropping my cane and in this instance, I did not trust that I would be able to keep my balance on two feet.

The herald cleared his throat as he stood next to me.

"Frederick Coulthard." He called into the room. "Emma Coulthard, his sister and Laurelen of the Lodge of Sorceresses."

The crowd rippled at that. We were missing the normal honorifics from the call and that had not gone unnoticed. The Empress didn't move but the herald stepped aside and gestured for us to move up the aisle.

Flame but I was tired.

I took another deep breath and started my slow shuffling progress. Again, my gaze was down on the floor, looking for the obstructions to make sure I avoided them. There was a science to it. The urge for me was to keep my leg straight to keep the strength on the end of my legs. I had to force myself to remember to bend my knees but that increased the pressure on my stumps and then I had less strength when I put my foot down.

The throne was so far away.

I swallowed and kept going. It hurt, and so the focus was just on placing one foot on the other. That, and ignoring the pain that was now shooting up my spine and concentrating on not whimpering.

Twice, people tried to make noise. Someone applauded and a few people joined in before some unseen signal caused them all to stop making the noise. I don't know if the Empress glared or what. The opposite end of the scale also happened when someone chuckled at some kind of mocking comment but that was also stifled quickly.

So that was all I could do, just focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

We came to the symbol on the carpet. There is always one in every courtroom in the land. It is the symbol that tells the person approaching royalty that this is the place where they need to stop. It had taken, what felt like, years to get to this point. Years that were written in pain and embarrassment but here we were and then a dawning horror occurred to me.

We would need to kneel.

I hadn't practised that before. I had been so focused on learning how to walk with my new wooden feet that the thought of having to kneel down with them had simply not crossed my mind. It seemed cruel somehow, that I had made it all this way with all of that pain and all of that effort. I was out of breath, probably sweating and trembling. And now I had to kneel without making a fool of myself.

I took a deep breath and tried to start bending my knees. Agony shot up through my thighs and this time I was unable to keep the whimper of the pain out of my mouth. I tried leaning my weight on my left leg first before swapping and then swapping back. Down on one knee first and then I would be able to navigate. I leant as much weight on my cane as I could but even with all of that, the ending was ignoble as I landed on my knee with an impact that sent even more pain shooting through me.

I could not keep a tear of pain from my eye and then it took some moments to realise that I still had to correct my other leg.

I did not look up at The Empress. I had to think of her like that. If I thought of her as my friend and sister then I would break. This was the Empress. She was the one that had put on this particular piece of theatre. This wasn't for me. This was for the people that were watching. I knew that. I hated that. I had written about just that kind of subject at length and I hated it all.

Nor did I want to think about just how I was going to climb back up to my feet. Again, time seemed to extend as the court looked at the three of us there, on our knees before the most powerful woman on the continent. I couldn't tell you what they were thinking and what was happening. I don't know who gloated in triumph to see the Coulthard family brought so low. Nor did I see who was outraged on our behalf at this humiliation. According to multiple sources, there were people on both sides of this position and some people argued about which side certain people were on.

"Rise," intoned a voice although I have no idea who it was that spoke. All I knew was that there was the movement of skirts next to me and Emma and Laurelen started to come to their feet.

In the meantime, I had to figure out how to do this. It started as a mirror of what had happened before. Get one foot under me and…

There was a clash of armour and I felt strong hands at my side. I looked up and through my blurring vision, I saw a face.

"Kerrass?" I whimpered. After all, who else could it be?

"Alas no, my brother." It took me a moment to recognise the voice. Sir Guillaume de Launfal of Toussaint.

It was another dagger in my heart and I wanted to weep.

"Lean on me, Freddie." He told me as he lifted me to my feet. I blinked a couple of times and I could see the torch and daylight shining their reflection in his armour. Tears were streaming down his face as he helped me to my feet.

"Flame bless you," I told him. And I meant it.

He helped me up before turning to stand behind me which caused a little bit of a stir. There was another pause as people waited for it to die down.

"Kindly retire, Sir Guillaume." The Empress intoned. She was echoed by other people, people shouted out orders to get him to stand back and to know his place. The ever-popular phrase "I remind you that you are a guest here…"

"I stand with my brother in arms." Sir Guillaume replied with tears in his voice. Flame bless an emotional man. "The treatment that he and his family are receiving is shameful and I would stand by his side."

I only know he said that last part as he was standing so close to me.

Several people shouted their approval while others tried to shout it down. There was stamping and the rhythmic sound of people beating their breasts. I think it would have carried on for a while if it had had the chance. It was a noise that seemed to swell as the different factions started to want to outshout each other.

"SILENCE!" Someone shouted. It was a harsh voice that cut through the noise. Someone had been trained to make that shout.

I struggled to get my head into the game. I managed to shuffle around to face the big knight that stood behind me, bristling with righteous fury and the desire to cause harm to offending idiots.

"It's alright," I whispered to him. My crippled left arm reached forward. Another moment where I had forgotten that I didn't have a hand anymore. I had wanted to touch his arm and be reassuring.

He looked down at me, his face stricken as the shouts of support and condemnation washed around us like the sea around a rock

I hated him a little… for the awful crime of not being Kerrass.

"It's alright," I said again, having to raise my voice to get over all of the noise that his outburst had elicited.

He took a shuddering breath and nodded.

"If any of you require a champion," he said loudly. "Then I trust that you will call on me."

I nearly laughed.

He bowed to the throne as he stepped around us. The noise died slowly as people were shushed by superiors wanting to hear what the Knight had to say.

"I beg that you forgive my outburst of emotion." He declared in a tone that was anything but 'begging'. "However, I stand by my sentiment. Sir Frederick is a Knight of the realm of Toussaint and has been a comrade in arms to many of us. It hurts me to see him treated this way." There was another swell of noise after he spoke. I don't know why I'm thinking in terms of the sea, possibly the Skelligans that were in the vicinity but that was what it felt like. I have been in courts before, but nothing like this one.

I had forgotten that I was a knight of Toussaint.

The Empress nodded and Guillaume returned to his faction. I saw Gregoire and I thought I also saw Anne who was leaning on her husband so that he was propping her upright. Lady Vivienne was there and her face was stony. I wondered if she had sent her husband. Their faces floated before me from the masses and as I blinked, it seemed to me that those faces were disembodied. Floating apparitions hovered before my eyes. I blinked furiously.

The Empress waited for it all to die down and I turned to watch as she scanned the room which also gave me a chance to look around me and finally sees who was there.

I knew what was happening then and I felt anger battering at my fatigue, illness and the dull pain that was in my right hand and arm as well as what remained of my legs.

Emma, Laurelen and I were the proverbial canaries in the coal mines. The Empress was dangling us out in front of everyone so that she could know who her opponents were concerning the coming declarations.

I could hear my voice talking me through it. Hearing voices is not a new phenomenon for me. Leaving aside the visions of those people that had come to me in the basement of Coulthard castle, Kerrass' voice often talks to me in the process of combat. Father Jerome famously talked me through those times of physical torture, specifically the time with Bishop Sansum. Various tutors have talked me through the work as I have spent time on this academic treatise or that one. My oldest tutor's voice drifts back to me through time and simply asks me that most dreaded of one-word questions.

"Why?" he would ask. The purpose was to make me examine the writing and work backwards from my conclusions to figure out why I had come to those conclusions in the first place.

But now, it seems that I hear my voice talking me through the courtier aspects of things. This was the Imperial Court. It might be taking place in the royal palace of Vizima but this was still an Imperial Court. For a moment, I felt as though I was drowning in it all. I was so far out of my depth and beyond my expertise. It was an Imperial Court and it was hostile. The best that could be said about it all was that they were not entirely hostile to me.

I was angry. The Empress was using me again. I couldn't think of her as Ciri any more. She was The Empress now and I couldn't think of her by name. My mind literally skittered off the thought of it. I resented her using us… using me like that.

I looked at her and she returned my gaze and my rusty instincts came to the fore. Her face was hard while her eyes as she looked at me were soft. As I watched, her gaze flickered down to her left hand which was resting on the arm of the throne. Her little finger was raised and I saw a signal being given. I looked around a little further and I saw that the only person watching her hand was Lord Voorhis. The man who was probably responsible for the cries demanding silence.

She was not dangling us out like this so that she could figure out who her opponents were. She was dangling us out like that so that we could see who our enemies were. But also our friends.

I glanced back at Emma. She still looked pale and drawn but there was a point of colour in each of her cheeks and as she met my gaze I could see an answering anger in the depths of those eyes. I decided to risk a small movement and tilted my head towards her, she did the same.

"Who is cheering?" I told her. "And who is yelling?"

I saw comprehension dawn and I saw the anger in her eyes turning from a formless, shapeless thing into a focused and forged point as her eyes started to dart around. I bent to my own efforts to do the same.

There was a lot to take in in the few seconds I had before the Empress started speaking and I was not very successful.

For all that I had realised about the gambit, there were a lot of people there. I was tired and in pain and still pretty sick. I was better but I was not Better. However, even if I had been on the very top of my courtly game and had completely recovered from my time of injury and sickness. I would still have struggled in that room. As it was, I didn't see much.

I saw Lord Voorhis. The man looked as though he had aged since I had last seen him. That had been when he had come with Ciri to bring the final news of Francesca's death which had been a little under a year ago now. I had not done the maths yet but I had no idea if he genuinely brought us that news or whether it had been a lie crafted by Sam. He was watching his Empress with the steely eyes of a man who knows that his entire life depends on him seeing what needs to be seen.

Like when I saw the faces of my friends from Toussaint, the faces seemed to float out of the throng. I would see them, take them in and then I would lose them in the mass of people. Then I would blink, or wince as my shifting weight would cause a fresh lance of agony to shoot up my arm or my spine and it would turn out that they were right in front of me all along.

As I say, Gregoire and Anne, his wife, were there. It was clear that she had been crying and like Guillaume, Gregoire's face was bleak as he looked at me. Vivienne was there, still looking coldly furious. Syanna was there as a representative and I would later learn that the Duchess had been here to come to the wedding but she had been sent home when the Rebellion had begun. Syanna was wearing a helm though and I had no idea what she was thinking.

The Skelligan group was also completely on our side. I saw Helfdan. He was wearing his Imperial Admiral's uniform and looked desperately uncomfortable with it. But there was an extra to his uniform which set him apart from just about every other person in the room. He was armed. The only other people that I saw in the room as being armed were Lord Voorhis and The Empress herself.

So Helfdan was making a point. He had deliberately dressed like that. But given who he was, I had no idea what that point was. He was frowning with an intensity that frightened me a little. He would not be doing well in a crowd like this one. So that he was here at all made me feel good about it all.

The rest of the Skelligans were a little further down the room. Queen Cerys stood at the front, proud and resplendent in her formal tartans and paraphernalia. Her brother Hjalmar was also there in his full formal gear. Where Cerys was still and quiet, Hjalmar was not. He seemed to be shouting at someone across the aisle from him although I could not make out the words. There were other people in that delegation. I thought I saw Jarl Holger of the Dimun clan shouting. He was an interesting choice to bring to an Imperial Court. The most famous and feared pirate on the seas of the continent, but he had declared that he owed Kerrass and me. He was joining Hjalmar in yelling at someone else.

I also thought that I could see Svein in the back as well as some others but they had been pushed back. At one point I thought I could see a dim flash of an ice-white face with straight black hair.

They were the two factions that could be most confirmed to be on our side. After that, there were a lot of people that were neutral or who had people on both sides of the divide.

The most neutral party of the lot was the main Temerian group. They were standing close to the Imperial throne on The Empress' right-hand side which was a place of honour. They were not a large group and I would guess that there were many other Temerian courtiers in the room that were making their presence felt, but these people were still. I could only recognise Lord Jon Natalis from his armour as I have never met the man. I also knew Lord Vernon Roche because of his reputation and the strange headdress that he affects. Both of them were acting as bodyguards and looked as though they were standing ready to leap in the way of any kind of threat and the young woman that they were protecting.

All I know of those two as people, rather than their reputations, was that Rickard spoke of Lord Natalis with an affectionate kind of hatred. Sometimes, he hated Lord Natalis for knighting him and although he could not deny the things that he had gained since being knighted, he resented the loss of being "one of the lads". But if anyone criticised the general then Rickard had been known to become violent.

I also know that Rickard and Vernon Roche had hated each other, which I always found interesting given that the two men have very similar backgrounds and stories. Where they differ though was that Roche believed that Temeria was worth sinking to any depths to protect, while Rickard had lines that he would not cross. From listening to Rickard it would seem that Roche would think of Rickard as being naive while Rickard thought Roche was a blemish on the reputation of Temeria. Not for his background, but because of Roche's methods.

I suspect that had he lived, King Foltest would have found uses for both and would have respected both points of view. But he died and… well…

A bald man was standing behind them, wearing a coat and a monocle which I guessed to be the fabled Thaler of Temerian Intelligence and another one of the architects of the peace accords between Temeria and Nilfgaard. He was watching proceedings intently, rubbing his hands together and occasionally licking his lips.

Another man was there as well, tall, handsome with dark hair, wearing green armour that I didn't recognise but he stood near to the young woman with an affectionate but possessive air that had nothing of romance in it.

The woman that they were protecting, which I took to be Queen Anais, was looking at me with open curiosity and I decided that if anyone knew what was going to happen over the coming minutes, it was her. After all, she had been willing to give up her courtroom and her throne for the Imperial presence and I suspected that this would come with certain… concessions.

Queen Anais is a fascinating figure and just as the Empress was a figure of romantic fascination to young people of the continent, then Queen Anais is another. Still a bit young for that kind of thing but when you mention that, people will point out that what is now considered "marriageable age" is a relatively recent thing and it used to be much younger.

These people are always men and I nearly always have the desire to punch them in the face rather than explain in clear and precise language why that was the case then and why this was the case now. Sometimes knowledge can be a burden.

But given that King Foltest was a good-looking man and that her mother, Lady La Valette, was a renowned beauty, it is obvious that the Queen is going to be a beautiful woman. But there is a reason that Temerians call her "The Iron Lily." She is already known to be fiercely intelligent and has no tolerance for those that would use her age against her. She sits in on her Regency council and is rumoured to make many of the decisions because the council can see the good sense and are terrified of refusing her.

She read about how the former Emperor kept control of his court and used many of his means of execution on her enemies.

She exiled her mother when Lady La Valette tried to control her, the regency council and therefore the throne.

Food for thought.

She was wearing armour that was lacquered a very pale blue with the Temerian lilies embossed on the chest plate. It might have been thinner and lighter, but unless I missed my guess, dwarven and Gnomic engineers would have been involved in the forging of that plate and although she might go flying backwards, I was pretty confident that the plate would stand up to everything up to and maybe including siege engines.

It would be the kind of stuff where the person wearing it might be goop but the plate mail would be immaculate.

Opposite them in the court was the Redanian Faction as led by the Queen Regent herself. The fact that Queen Adda had come herself was saying something. I had no idea what it was saying but it said something. Looking back, I suspect that she was there to stake her claim over this or that. I remembered Sam's insistence that she was more than aware of his attempt at Rebellion and that she had, indeed, supported and endorsed the rebellion.

I also remembered Sam's determination that I would go on to marry this woman and it was this thought that was echoing around my mind when I looked at the, admittedly beautiful, woman before me. Lady Yennefer will not thank me for the comparison but the two women do share one characteristic which is that when you think about them, you always think of them as being taller than they are. There is something about the charisma of the two that means that they end up dominating whatever room they are in.

In this case, though, they were up against the Empress of the Continent.

Queen Adda's hair is still red and she is still pale of skin. Her clothing is not as revealing as rumour would once have it during the days of Jacques de Aldesbourg's rebellion, but it does little to hide the very feminine shape that is underneath. She is beautiful but I do not find her attractive. She is angry and she looks out at the world as though she hates it. She is quick to anger and likes to fight back. She is the kind of person that will deliberately go out of her way to find offence with things to have something to fight back against. So she is always on guard against everyone.

Loving this woman would mean that you were always on guard.

As a historian, I know why she is like this. As royalty goes, she has had a hard life and is evidence that the upper classes do not limit their cruelty to the lower classes. She has been a pawn, moved around on the continental stages for many years by her father, her husband and others that sought to take advantage of her. And then her husband went mad and listened to that faction of the Eternal Flame that named her a monster.

She was watching the three of us with hunger in her eyes. But her courtiers were not as sure of themselves as the Temerian ones which suggested that they didn't know what was happening here. There were several of them around her. All of them were young with martial bearings and handsome faces. I noticed that one of them was trying rather hard to see if he could see down the Queen's cleavage.

Other faces floated out of the throng at me. By far the largest factions there were Temerian and Redanina ones, as well they might but there were also several other religious factions. I did my best to take as much of it in as I could. I rather thought that Knight Father Danzig was there, large in his armour amongst the faction of Kreve. I also thought that I recognised Abbess Nenneke from Ellander Abbey.

There were so many other faces there. So many people had come to see… whatever this was. Half remembered faces from childhood. Men that had come to Coulthard castle to try and browbeat Father into doing this or that or the other thing. Men that had argued that Emma needed to know her place and demanded vast sums of money from her at the same time. There were men of the church of the Eternal Flame, friends of Mark and enemies of Mark that, having their dislike of Mark stymied, wanted to take out their wrath on his surviving family.

I recognised many of them as their faces and voices floated out of the throng at me. I tried to take note of them but the sheer volume of all of them and the sheer… intensity of the feeling there was overwhelming. Moustachioed faces floated out of the throng at me, their facial hair quivering with this expression or that sentiment. There was a triumph on far too many faces. It was the triumph of seeing their enemies destroyed.

I remembered Sam telling me about just how much the Coulthard family was hated on the greater part of the continent and I had been unhappy at the suggestion. But that was what I felt was happening here and I felt buffeted around as though I was a leaf being blown around in the storm.

The Empress let it go on and on.

Sad faces. Faces that tried to radiate support for us and others that tried to tell us just how much they hated us and I could not have told you which of the two hurt the most.

So many faces. I felt myself begin to tremble which The Empress noticed and sent the signal to Lord Voorhis who turned and gave his call.

"SILENCE"

It took a long time for silence to come back to the fore. I took the time to grit my teeth and get my trembling under control. Only a few moments had passed since Sir Guillaume had retreated from my side but I was out of breath in a way that left me feeling as though I had been running. Kerrass' words on breathing came to my rescue then. I took in deep breaths, held them and then blew them out and while the wall of sound that the court projected began to die down, I felt my breathing steady and I could stand calmly again.

The Empress gestured and a small table was brought and placed in front of her. I had seen this before when the Empress destroyed Sir Crawthorne in Toussaint and the same small part of my mind that I have never quite been able to dismiss wondered if it was the same table.

The private secretary was the same man. A young man, still older than me, who was also dressed in Imperial plate mail although without any kind of rank insignia. I had never seen him dressed this way and I found it more than a little terrifying. Although I have never found him to be anything less than disarmingly charming and friendly with a bone-dry sense of humour, he is known to be an expert swordsman and so committed to the Empress that he has several means of ending his own life on his person at any time should he be taken alive to get to her.

He had a large, document case with him, two plates of leather-bound wood that contained the papers that I knew the Empress was about to sign. He set out a candle, a large quill, an ink pot and a blocking sand shaker while the Empress rose to her feet.

For a long moment, she stood there like a statue so that when she moved, she made more than a few people jump.

"As it happens," she began, she spoke carefully and clearly, biting off the words so that no one was in any doubt as to who she was or what she was saying. This is the kind of speech pattern that royal and powerful types get trained in so that there is never any confusion about what they said. History tells us that wars have been started over that kind of confusion.

"As it happens, we completely agree with your sentiment, Sir Guillaume. The treatment of Sir Frederick and Ladies Emma and Laurelen has been shameful." She turned to us. "We have let you down Madams, Sir. And many of us in this room share the guilt of that."

The court didn't know what to make of that and more than one of them looked at each other as they tried to figure out where this particular court was going now.

The slow dawning fear that they might have misjudged things was evident in more than one voice and face.

"Firstly…" The Empress continued as The secretary placed a piece of paper on the table. "There is the subject of ratifying your titles and inheritances. What you may not know is that the line of Kalayn is expunged from the record in disgrace. It is an offence to say that name in our presence although it will be noted in the history books as to what happened and the names will be preserved in that way, the rest of it will never be uttered again. We advise you to remember this and the ban begins when I am done."

This was not news to the court and they subsided while they listened.

"So for a start, Lady Emma, we reinstate you to the position of Lady Coulthard and although you cannot be a Baron when it comes to rank and title, we give to you the seal of that rank so that you may live as you see fit. We charge you with returning the Coulthard trading companies to their former strength as was before this petty little rebellion and when that task is completed you will let us know as we have further work for you. In the meantime, we will charge you to obey your feudal Lord in other matters and you will do your utmost to support them. We understand that your voice was taken from you as part of the horrors that you have endured, therefore for this circumstance only, we will accept your nodding and curtsy as acceptance of these charges. Do you accept?"

Emma nodded and sank into a curtsy even if she did not look up from her stance. I rather hoped that I could see some colour returning to her cheeks.

"Very well. By my signature and seal, it is done."

She said that quickly but it took some time to follow through on the matter. An Imperial signature is not a small thing. Then the wax needs to be melted, and the seal needs to be attached and again, an Imperial seal is not a small thing.

And the Empress needs to do this twice.

The reaction to this was interesting. A lot of the male factions have, at various times, come into competition with Emma over this or were angry. I guessed that they were here to both watch her destruction but also to carve up the remains of the Coulthard trading company between them. I also know that more than one of those people tried to leave to get to factors or trading concerns to either minimise losses or maximise gains. But this was an Imperial court, not a royal one and the guards on the door had rather strict instructions.

The reaction that surprised me at the time although I have had a lot of time to think about it since was from the Queen. She seemed pleased and looked at Emma with a kind of hungry expression. At the time, I could not read it but since then I have wondered if the Queen had listened with interest to the thing about "feudal master" and had assumed that this meant that she, the Queen, would therefore have some measure of control over the Coulthard trading company.

Time will still tell about what might happen there though.

The Secretary took one of the signed documents and put it into a separate file before taking the other, folding it carefully and passing it to Emma who took a moment to realise that she was being passed something. When that was done the court quieted again.

"Lady Laurelen," the Empress spoke again. "Lady Laurelen, your association with the Coulthard family is a long and storied one. You are a member of the Lodge of Sorceresses, as are we, and as such we would ask as to whether your loyalties are tied to the Coulthard family permanently?"

Laurelen took a moment to properly parse that question before she nodded.

"As permanently as they can be." She said, "Until the woman that I love is no longer able to stay with me at least."

There was some shifting in the crowd. Despite the interpretations of scripture that suggest that love between people of the same gender was to do with the requirement of children and may have been misinterpreted in the first place, there is still more than enough sentiment in both the churches of Kreve and the Eternal Flame for people to cry out in dismay and anger at this public declaration of love. My thought was more that the dismay and outrage were to be seen to object rather than actual objections from the tone of it. More than one priest stood forward and tried to make a name for themselves in their circles by standing forward and shouting their objections. I remember one example.

"This is an abomination," said one priest. He had the look of an ascetic about him and was younger than most which are why I am certain that this was a way to get him noticed by the faction that he most supported. "These women should be taken and burnt immediately as the heretics that they are and…"

"Try it and find out what happens." Someone answered promptly. It might even have been from the Toussaint camp or from within the Eternal Flame camp itself.

These were just among some of the things that were shouted and answered. It might also be mentioned that the young priest in question was hauled backwards and back into line by an older priest. For what reason though, I don't know. Looking at the Empress' face though, his life was saved at that moment.

The signal was given and again, the roar for silence echoed in the hall.

"Then as Empress, I declare you part of the Coulthard family with all of the feudal rights and responsibilities that entails. Again, I charge you to serve and support your feudal masters as best as you can."

Laurelen curtsied

"I will be honoured and… overjoyed to serve."

Notice that The Empress didn't say "married" though. I didn't at the time but I have since had the opportunity to go back and look at the records. Laurelen was not married into the family. That was what she would be practically speaking but in reality, she was just… a member of the family now. Like an adopted daughter. I was, and am still not entirely sure what I thought about all of that.

It set several interesting precedents though. Laurelen was a member of the Lodge of Sorceresses and now she was part of a feudal tradition. Being a Sorceress, there was also the probability that she would outlive everyone else that was in gthe family. I suspect that at some point in the future, there are going to be teams of lawyers that are going to make an awful lot of money out of deciding what that all meant. So the change had been made. The Empress had made some changes. Not too many changes but enough changes that caused a certain amount of outrage.

The waves of sound subsided after a while as the private secretary brought over her document of formal adoption.

"Finally, we come to you, our one-time comrade in arms, Frederick."

I felt the need to square my shoulders as though I was getting ready for a fight. She was doing little more than confirming former titles which would have been a matter of routine. Mark was dead, as was any other potential heir so this was, in theory, just the moment when she was confirming our titles.

But I was scared that it was going to be something else.

It both was and wasn't.

"It is with no small amount of personal pleasure, that I name you Lord Frederick Coulthard. I would wish it had come to you in any other way, but come to you it has and I am proud to name you as such. In doing so I confer upon you the Coulthard ancestral lands and title."

I was already thinking furiously and from the sounds of things, I was not alone. This meant that the lines in Emma's and Laurelen's declaration about 'feudal master' were referring to me.

"Further to this, through your mother's line, you will inherit the lands in Northern Redania that belonged to her family."

I noticed that the name Kalayn was not used.

"And also that smaller realm on the coast referred to as the manse of White Cliffs. These too must now be considered Coulthard lands. Although we warn you that both are being scoured, again by the church and Imperial authorities."

I felt the need to put something in there.

"I would…" I had to clear my throat. "I would have asked for their help in both cases anyway."

The court was quiet as I spoke.

"I had no doubt," the Empress smiled at me before she seemed to remember herself and became stern again. "So with that, you are now Lord Coulthard. We judge that this amount of Land would come with the title of Count and therefore allow me to be the first to greet you as Count Frederick Coulthard."

The cheer was not universal. It was enough so that I could pick out a few individual voices. Guillaume and the Knights of Toussaint vied with the Warriors of Skellige. There was some other cheering as well as people started to realise which way the court was going and what the generalised sentiment of the Empress was. There was also confusion. The court was dressed up as though this would be a punitive court. The feeling of the thing was that people were going to lose their lives today and that the Empress was going to dress some people down. Declarations like "take this man away and have broken on the wheel" was expected in this kind of atmosphere.

Some people were displeased. The Redanian nobles that I recognised were the angriest but there were some Temerians that were annoyed as well. I suspected that people had eyes on Coulthard lands and holdings and as such, the Empress had just told them that this was not going to be the case. Of course, now I know what was happening but at the time, my rusty courtier brain was not working entirely at full strength.

The other thing that I only noticed after a moment was that although I had been named a Count, I had not been named a Count anywhere. Neither Redania nor Temeria. It was clear that Emma and Laurelen would be answering to me, but who would I be answering to? I was not the only person that realised this either as I could see that Queen Adda was frowning.

So far, the business that had been conducted was relatively routine. There was a declaration of trust in controversial figures to be sure. But people had been expecting more drama and there were some confused murmurings to take that into account.

The private secretary came to me and handed me my writ of nobility. There was a brief moment where I had to lean on Emma to take the writ and put it in a pouch. All of the small movements that I had previously taken for granted were now incredibly difficult.

He took the opportunity to shake my hand and leant forward to tell me that there would be official seals and things sent to me but to not move because business was not done with me yet.

I have seen this kind of thing being done many times and there is always a moment where someone shakes the beneficiary's hand and mutters something to them. I had always thought it was to express congratulations but my own experience would suggest that it was more complicated than that.

He retreated to his table.

"Count Frederick." The Empress went on, "Nothing would make us happier than to allow you to sit down, rest and recuperate from your recent ordeals. But will you forgive us for keeping you standing a little longer?"

I did my best to bow, just a little curving of the body to dip my head down and lower my eyes. This I had practised though.

"I live to serve," I told her which elicited a little laughter from the room.

"Do not be so swift to declare such things." The Empress told me. "For we shall hold you to that. But first, we must inform you of some things that you have missed and that have been deliberately kept from you. We did these things and ordered these things so that you would be kept neutral from these while the matter of your innocence was proven…"

That caused a stir. It would seem that not everyone agreed with that particular declaration. I still harbour a sneaking suspicion that they might be right.

More than one person shouted out a denial of this or calls of disbelief. Wordless cries of this or that shouted from the depths of small knots of men and women. The Empress ignored this.

"Certain factors from North of the border that your family lived on as well as certain factors from the South used the rebellion as a cover to try and gain some more territory for themselves. The fact that your family has done great work on your lands to increase the yield of the farming crops and other such improvements and investments means that your lands were rather attractive to certain ambitions. Those people that still consider themselves Redanian advanced their forces into your lands to claim it for themselves."

"Reclaim it." A Redanian noble shouted. "Coulthard lands were always Redanian by…"

"And yet you couldn't…"

"It was a genuine effort to help our friends to the North of the Pontar and…"

"SILENCE," Lord Voorhis' lungs were getting a proper workout today.

Things died down.

The Empress waited with an expression that suggested to me that she had noted who had started the brief outbreak of outrage and that she would remember it.

"And then…" she went on when she was sure that the room was listening to her. "The Temerians crossed the Pontar to the South of the realm of Coulthard, under the guise of peace-keeping efforts, but were really there to…"

"Outrageous." Some Temerian nobleman shouted before a couple of his neighbours jumped on him to keep him quiet. They might have saved the man's life for all I know.

"They were there to take what they could get." The Empress finished. "Including the sacking of some of your territory under the guise of banditry and remnants of rebellion. Before the Redanians become too smug, it should be pointed out that they did the same. Under the guise of protecting their sovereign soil, they did more than a little bit of raping and pillaging themselves. Once again, the old prejudices come to the fore. Non-humans have suffered given their prevalence in Coulthard lands.

"But this was not the only effect, Lord Frederick. I am sure that you will share our horror that these things have taken place. The mobilising of The Imperial Forces means that people have taken advantage of that confusion. Once again, banditry, smuggling and all kinds of horror have sprung up in the Pontar delta. Even the old grudges between Kaedwen and Aedirn have sprung up again thinking that just because our eyes were turned towards the Rebellion, that we wouldn't notice other factors."

The court was shifting now, as people were moving in discontent and concern. The Empress was angry and everyone could see it.

"It is even possible that we are underplaying the problem, Lord Frederick. It is known that as well as the siege of Coulthard castle, there was also another battle of the Rebellion and the fighting around Novigrad. But other than that there have been several skirmishes fought in and around your lands. Temerian forces invaded Redania to seize that territory. Redanian forces sought to enrich themselves on the carcass of the Rebellion and claim Novigrad and your family's holdings. There have been fights, skirmishes and my military advisors even tell me that there have been battles fought."

I felt a flickering in my belly.

"The site of Castle Coulthard has been claimed for Temeria, Redania, Temeria again and it wasn't until we were confident that the last forces of the Rebellion were destroyed, that the site was retaken by Imperial Forces. Since then, legal issues have come as people have tried to claim rights of conquest as they carved up your land like a roast. And it is not just your land.

"The land of Velen and the Baroness of Crow's Reach tells us that in answer to the Temerian's coming North to take your lands, her lands were invaded by Redanians. The Reeve of Flotsam tells me that traders from Redania and Temeria have been buying up weapons on a wartime scale. As well as that, refugees have been travelling and fleeing the site,"

She was speaking with increased agitation now as her fury started to bubble over as she leapt to her feet.

"WE THOUGHT WE WERE DONE WITH THIS NONSENSE MY LORDS." She bellowed into the room. "CIDARIS AND VERGEN ARE TRYING TO INVADE AND YOU SQUABBLE OVER THE REMAINS OF GOOD MEN AND WOMEN WHO DID MORE FOR THEIR LANDS AND PEOPLE THAN YOU HAVE EVER DREAMED. SHAME ON YOU MY LORDS AND LADIES. SHAME ON YOU."

The fury of the Empress was like a Whip crack as it lashed across the assembly. The crowd was appalled. They had been looking forward to a few people's destructions but they hadn't been aware that the Empress was angry with all of them. There was a sullen quality to the silence though.

The Empress pinched the bridge of her nose and sat down.

"Forgive me, Lord Frederick. While all of this has been going on, you were ill and injured and as such it is impossible for you to have known any of this. You were tried by an independent court of judges. Even knowing the fact of my affection for you and your family I took the step to remove myself from judging such harsh a thing…"

"Not that independent." Someone shouted and then there was uproar.

"WHO SAID THAT?" Queen Cerys demanded, her voice rising above the instant uproar. "WHO SAID THAT? Show yourself or I name you cowards and traitors yourselves. WHO SAID THAT?"

Even though someone had ordered that people's weapons be removed, there were still people wearing armour and there was a need for blood in the air. This time it took more than just Lord Voorhis' orders to calm everything down.

Emma, Laurelen and I were surrounded by knights of The Imperial Guard as the crowd surged. People were shouting, fists were being raised and it might have gone ugly. But armoured men stamped and clashed their weapons against their shields and the threat died down.

The sense of sullen anger grew and although the threat of violence had been reduced, there was little that could be done about the undercurrent of murmured voices.

Queen Cerys was not done.

"I oversaw that trial," she informed the room. "As well everyone knows it. I oversaw that trial and I knew that it was important. Just as I knew how important Count Frederick was to both the Empress, my friend, and Jarl Helfdan, the man that I will marry. I knew this so I remained neutral. Who would suggest that that panel was not impartial? Who will suggest it again, before me? Do it now so that I might answer or know yourself for the coward and liar that you are. The panel found him innocent by not even a small margin and I, for one, would stand for Count Frederick's honour now that the matter has been proven."

The Skelligans and the Knights of Toussaint roared their approval of that until it felt as though the metal fixtures in the room shook.

This time The Empress allowed the matter to die down. The one side because they had run out of things to say and the other because they were afraid of the depth of feeling in the room.

The Empress tried to lighten the situation with a wry smile.

"Do you see what I have to deal with Lord Frederick?" She was unable to keep anger from her voice though. I am enough of a courtier to wonder if that was a manipulation.

"Because of the rebellion," she began, "crime is rampant and if Imperial Forces had not been in the area, then we have little doubt then old grudges would have led to war between Redania and Temeria. This with hostile forces to the West of both and a Novigrad that wants to retake their independence. Kaedwen and Aedirn want to renew old conflicts over the Pontar Valley and the Valley of Flowers. Angraal, once all but unknown, has vultures circling it now that the Duke and his wife are dead and the Barony of Flotsam is rife with old problems that the Baron had assured me were no longer going on.

"The people in this room did not begin this rebellion. But there are plenty here that sought to profit from it, and profit from you."

The Empress's voice was cold and ripped out across the room. There was certainly no doubt in my mind that if anyone had objected to that then they would have paid for that matter with their lives. The court was silent.

Queen Adda was frowning as she watched the entire thing, Queen Anais… I don't think she cared.

"And now, Lord Frederick, if you are willing, you and I will finish it.

"We had hoped, as our Father had before us, that the North could be trusted to be peaceful and behave with honour. As a daughter of the North myself I am ashamed of my fellows and their behaviour. They were trusted, but now they have betrayed that trust, so now I will enforce it,

"Lord Frederick, you are the one person that I know for a fact is innocent. You were found innocent by an independent panel as our cousin Queen Cerys declares. You were put to the Inquisition and they found you innocent. You have been recovering and under guard while all this nonsense has been going on. Therefore, you are the one person out of all of this… sorry rabble, who we can trust to be impartial in these matters. Will you help me, Lord Frederick?"

This was the moment and this was the theatre. We all knew it. Ciri had checked with me before and she already knew the answer.

As did I.

It is a common thing, far more common than people think it is. Orders are given in advance. Questions have been answered and more often than not the plan has long since been made before the meetings get to that point. Do not ever think otherwise. The decision was made. The fix was in. All that was left of the matter was to play out the theatre of it all.

Flame but I hate it.

"Your Imperial Majesty," I told her, doing my little effort of a bow. "I will, of course, be honoured to serve in whatever capacity you deem necessary or see fit. I would only point out my physical infirmity as an obstacle."

The Empress waved her hand in denial of my little piece of improvisation.

"I am reassured that given time, practice and enough proper care, your injuries will not be as much of an obstacle as you think. And if we need to take steps to have you serve, then we will do precisely that. But we need you to start work immediately."

Her eyes narrowed a little. I was going to pay for that little objection.

"Then how may I serve?" I wondered.

"We hereby," she bent and wrote at the table, signing her name and affixing her seal to another document. It was not lost on me that this document was on a much larger and richer piece of parchment than had last been used.

"We hereby name you Duke of the Pontar," she said loudly. Again, sounding out the words and biting off the consonants.

I thought I could hear whistling in my ears and just for a moment I wondered if I was going to pass out.

Someone shouted in surprise. More than one person gasped so that it seemed as though the entire room took in a deep breath.

Emma put her hand over my arm and I felt her grip me tightly.

"This is not a hereditary title, but it is a lifetime appointment." The Empress went on while she waited for the wax to properly pool. "We hope that you will work towards making the position redundant so that when you are sadly no longer with us, the title will be allowed to fall into disuse."

There was a sense of people wanting to complain and object to what was happening but they were also being shushed by those that were waiting to hear what was being said.

"Your duties will be many and varied." The Empress went on while she began work on the second copy of her declaration. It seemed that there were going to be a number of them. "But your overall duty is that you will return the Pontar delta to a state of peace and prosperity. To do this, you will work with the Baroness of Crow's Perch, the Baron of Flotsam and the Lord Mayor of Novigrad. You will serve as head of the Regency of Angraal until the young Count comes of age. As well as Coulthard County, you will also work with the Baron of the Pontar Valley when we have decided who shall have oversight of that region and we shall expect you to have input on that appointment. These shall be your feudal subjects and will answer to you as Duke.

"You will liaise with the Elves of Dol Blathanna at the far end of the Pontar delta but you will not have lordship over them directly."

I nodded, trying desperately to take it in.

"Further to this, you will enforce Imperial tariffs and taxes on these regions. You will see to it that trade moves freely and that banditry is wiped out. You will enforce the Imperial peace in these regions. To support you in these things, you will use the tax revenue you take to found the first Northern Imperial Army which will be made up of soldiers that you will recruit, train and equip from the North. You will also rebuild Vergen fortress in the Western part of the Pontar valley region and rebuild Coulthard castle. With your assistance, we will appoint generals and engineers to advise you and to lead the troops at your disposal."

By this point, you could have heard a pin drop in that courtroom.

"Essentially, my lord Duke, you will provide a demilitarised zone between Redania and Temeria, Kaedwen and Aedirn and all combinations of each other. Do you understand these duties, Lord Frederick?"

I nodded at first but then it became clear that a larger response was required.

"Yes, Imperial Majesty." And then my cursed mouth just kept talking. "It strikes me that I will need a lot of help."

A few people laughed. Not as many as I would have liked.

"And we shall provide it for you, my Lord Duke." She said, moving on to the next piece of paper. "The court should note that we are not removing the territory from any flag, but we are enforcing proper borders and boundaries."

"If I may," Constable Natalis cleared his throat. "What of the taxes? We agree that something needs to be done but the trade through Flotsam is a significant amount of revenue to deprive the Temerian…"

"After the first outlay," The Empress spoke over him. "We expect the matter to improve the revenues coming in. After all, one of the people that will be supporting Lord Frederick will be his sister who I don't think any will deny is one of the finest trading minds of the Empire…"

There was some outrage at this before there was another shout for silence.

"When the defences, roads and homes have been built and rebuilt, the leftovers from each of the provinces will be passed onto the crown coffers. Which reminds me. By my order, Duke Frederick now sits on the Regency Councils of both Temeria and Redania."

And I thought that the outrage had been strong before.

"You can't do that," seemed to be the most common sentiment with "This is outrageous." Seemed to be the less common.

"I think my Lords and ladies will find that I can do this, indeed… I have already done it." The Empress declared with a final flourish of the pen.

There was a flurry of activity then, with Ciri answering responses and declaring various things. Once again, a couple of armoured men came and stood next to Emma, Laurelen and me as people were hurling just as much abuse at us as they were at the Empress. I will admit that I was still in a daze so I didn't take as much of it in as I wanted to.

For those that are unaware of the proper implications. Being named a Duke of an area essentially means that I am the ruler of that area to the level of the fact that members of Royal Families have to ask my permission to do what they want to do in that area. I mean, it might not be politically expedient of me to say no, but all the same.

Ciri might as well have made me a King.

I wanted a pot to be sick in.

There were a few exchanges that stood out though.

"But Temeria is an independent nation," one courtier called out. "You can't do that, it ignores our right to self-govern. We shall not stand for it I say."

I didn't know him although Laurelen would later tell me that she did. Unsurprisingly he was one of the powerful barons that had once tried to wrest power away from Queen Anais at the start of her reign and later held it over her head. His reputation was a military one but when we went looking we could find no record of him actually serving in any formal military action.

He was not alone in this declaration so if you are thinking I am being unfair, that is why I am obscuring his name as he doesn't deserve to be singled out as the only person that made this particular attack.

"Yes," The Empress said. "And then you invaded Nilfgaard's client kingdom of Redania. In response to this flagrant act of war, we feel that we are being rather magnanimous."

That put the cat amongst some pigeons I can tell you. After an almost identical objection was voiced later, Ciri suggested that she had had some advice from several generals as to methods on how a counter-invasion would go. This would then mean that the enforcement of the protections of the Brokilon and the proper prosecution of the war with Vergen and Cidaris could be checked upon.

That made the Redanian faction's eyes gleam.

Here is another exchange.

"Forgive me Imperial Majesty, but does this mean that those lands named are no longer within the borders of the country that they belonged to earlier? I am just seeking clarification of the issue as I would personally admit that the idea is a good one."

This gentleman was a merchant lord. Emma once described him as an occasional ally and enemy. It could go either way, but at the same time, there is no malice there. The price of doing business. He might even have been the father of one of the people I had been sent to court.

"No, those lands still belong to the initial realms. Specifically, Velen and Flotsam belong to Temeria. Coulthard County and Novigrad belong to Redania while Angraal and the Pontar Valley will be dealt with accordingly. Although the last time I looked at a map, Angraal is independent and leaning towards Kaedwen."

There was some more argument as it was once true that Novigrad was its own separate Kingdom and many citizens of Novigrad value their independence.

Most of it was along those lines before certain players decided that they were bored of all of this nonsense and made their presence felt.

Queen Anais stepped forward and nodded to Lord Natalis who stamped his feet for silence.

I would later wonder if I had imagined Lords Roche and Lord Natalis bending down to whisper fervently in the Queen's ear. I mean, I'm pretty sure that I saw that, but at the same time… As I keep saying, I am not sure that I am an entirely reliable witness in that I was uncomfortable, tired and in pain while using a large amount of my concentration just remaining upright which was far from easy in the first place.

But having said all that, I am pretty sure that I can remember, during all of the hubbub and hullabaloo, that the Queen had turned to look at Constable Jon Natalis and scowled at him after which both he and Lord Roche bent and spoke in her ear for a certain length of time.

Then she seemed to sigh and nod before waiting for a time when things would come to enough of a halt that she would be heard. Not that I think she would struggle, but you never know.

Like all such memories from that time and that particular time in the courtroom, I can remember brief moments, images and when the court coalesced into one memory, then I remember that. As it is, what you are reading before you is transcribed with my gratitude from the official record of the court.

But Queen Anais stepped forwards and the noise died down. Do not think that this meant that silence greeted the ]young Queen, but instead say that things died down so that people could hear what she had to say.

"We share the Empress' dismay at recent happenings on our Northern Border. It seems to us that certain factors among both realms still refuse to accept my rule, as well as our honourable sister's rule in the North. And we share the court's dismay that such actions have been taken that might threaten war on our Northern Borders when we are already at war on our Western."

She turned to me and fixed me with a stare.

"Allow us to be the first in Temeria to welcome His Grace the Duke of the Pontar, to our courts and our council. We look forward to working with him in the near future to ensure that none of our citizens has to live in fear. Whether from Redanian aggression or the whims of ambitious men."

She stepped back.

I thought she did well. I am not sure that I could have done better if someone had written that speech for me. She called out Redanian aggression and planted the idea in everyone's minds that the Redanina adventures were officially sanctioned ones while also suggesting that she was innocent of any wrongdoing. She put herself on an equal footing with the Empress and appealed to her support by supporting the Empress, while also taking people to task and telling everyone that it was time to move on. And if some of the ploys that the Empress was talking about really did come from her council, then she was telling them all that it was time to move on. It is the mark of a good political player to know when the game is over and to move on to the next round. There is nothing worse than those people that keep trying to get ahead with a plan that has already failed.

I have said it before and I am not alone in this analysis, but that woman is going to be a formidable one and her rule is going to shake the Continent for years to come.

There was more than one cry of dismay at the young Queen's words.

"We will not bow so easily." Someone shouted and as I turned my head, I saw the same priest that had objected earlier. "We answer to a higher power and as such, we do not need to bow down to this kind of thing. How dare you give the governorship of such a holy city to the brother of such an obvious traitor and heretic."

"I agree," one of the Redanian nobles stepped forward. "This man is the brother of the one who is responsible for all of this. How do we not know that this is the final victory? You would place a traitor and a heretic on the Queen's Council. At best, he is tainted and at worst he is a traitor and a heretic himself. I agree with the honourable priest that this cannot be allowed."

I looked for Queen Adda to see what she was going to say, or how she was going to react to all of this. I saw her, she had taken a few steps back and was watching things carefully.

The noble was a tall and handsome man with a moustache and goatee carefully trimmed and his hair carefully oiled and slicked back in the Imperial fashion. I wondered if I knew him or how I had pissed him off in the past. I have no idea as I looked at him but his eyes shone with calculation and determination.

The priest was still talking though.

"How are we expected to allow this man, this… consorter with demonic and monstrous forces to govern even a part of that most holy a city?"

"Not just a city, but a nation." The noble was standing next to the priest now. "The Imperial throne has long coveted the crown of Redania, it was our nation that held the Imperial forces at bay until traitors and charlatans betrayed us."

He spat that last at the fate of Vernon Roche who bristled, but again, I wondered if I imagined the hand that Lord Natalis placed on Lord Roche's arm. With all of the shifting bodies, it was hard to tell.

"And the Coulthard family is so obviously tainted." The priest allowed himself to warm to his subject. "Consorting with mages and vampires and Flame knows what else. From his lips, this thing that you call Duke has loved Succubi and low women of loose character. His sister consorts with other women in unclean ways. We will not accept this. We will not, I say."

"We agree." The noble shouted garnering more than a small number of cries of agreement. "Redania will not accept such blatant subversion of our sovereignty, theft from our coffers interfering in our governing of our territories. We join our holy neighbours in…"

Queen Cerys was outraged and was visibly restrained by Helfdan and her brother Hjalmar in her effort to get at the offending idiots. The mood was turning ugly again and I looked around for means of salvation. I was reassured that we still had armoured men nearby but if this got out of hand, I could be knocked aside easily.

I saw Queen Adda though and she was still watching everything with a frown of fascinated interest. She was not alone in this as I saw Lord Voorhis and Lord Natalis doing the same. I could not help but remember Sam's insistence that the Queen was aware of the coming rebellion and supported it and I wondered if that priest and that noble had been hung out to dry, by her, just so she could see who her friends and enemies are.

I would not have put it past her and it would certainly be within her character to do so.

But it was here that Ciri lost her temper. And when she did so, she was colder than ice.

"Will not accept it?" She hissed, it was one of those royal hisses that seemed quiet but even so, it seemed to fill the area. It was quiet but everyone heard it. "Then I take it that you are in active rebellion against the Imperial throne. Very well, Admiral Helfdan?"

Helfdan stood forward.

"You are in control of Novigrad are you not?"

He nodded.

"My people control the streets, the harbour and the walls, we are supported by Clan Dimun and elements of Clan An Craite, Clan Tordarroch and Clan Tuirseach. Jarl Svanrige, the exile returned, governs there in my absence."

"Good, order him to sack the city and burn it to the ground." She said it quietly with such a sense of raw menace that it was impossible to get away from.

Only the priest who had objected seemed to voice his horror. Everyone else, including me, was frozen by it.

"You… You can't do that."

Ciri was not done.

"Tell Jarl Svanrig to pay special attention to the cathedral districts. That money will be needed for rebuilding. In the meantime… Lord Voorhis."

"Imperial Majesty?"

"You will invade Redania and remind them that they are a conquered people. Queen Anais, Lords Roche and Natalis, I trust that you will support us in this as elements of the Temerian armies would be useful."

Lord Natalis was as horrified as the rest of us. Vernon Roche's eyes were narrowed. Queen Anais bowed, apparently she never curtsies.

"May we expect certain concessions?" she wondered.

And it was this that caused the dam to break.

This time, the Knights that surrounded the three Coulthards that were there moved us to the side where they kept us safe. I managed to lean against the wall for a while.

People were screaming and shouting, punches were thrown, and it was getting ugly. It didn't last long before a signal was given and the Imperial Guard drew their swords. The threat was implicit and the court calmed again, quickly. Some voices were still raised in the middle of all of that and one of them was a female voice. I couldn't see the action any more as I was in the back corner of the room, well away from it all.

It was Queen Adda's voice that rose to the foreground as she yelled at those that had caused the offence.

"That is quite enough, you shame us. Here we are, a guest in a foreign court and you speak of treason and heresy, even while you accuse others of the same. The Coulthard family have been loyal subjects of Redania since they rose to prominence. We easily remember the state our armed forces were in before the late Lord Coulthard supplied our forces with arms and armour and now you accuse their most loyal son of treason. The heresy of their number was a Northern disgrace. It would simply seem that the Inquisitions did not cut the cancer out of our realm properly. We will rectify that. Also, I remind you all that although I am the Queen Regent, the council is the King's Regency Council. To say otherwise is treason against him."

Apparently, she spun and curtsied low before the Empress.

"Imperial Majesty, I do humbly beg your pardon. Allow us to add our words of welcome to that of our most wise and noble sister. We welcome Lord Frederick to our son's council. In the meantime, we beg, allow us to deal with our more foolish subjects."

I have the physicality of what happened from the record.

"Guards," she called and one or two of her attending nobles acted, taking the "foolish" noble by the arm. I'm told that he even tried to frighten them but those lords, galvanised by the threat of Imperial Invasion, were not letting him off the hook.

"But my Queen…" He protested. "You wanted…"

"SILENCE," Queen Adda screamed. "Guards you will pull out his lying tongue and…"

"Hold." The Empress said, her voice seeming calm and gentle. "First of all, if this is an errant faction within your nation then obviously you are forgiven. Do not worry, I spoke in anger."

The Queen curtsied low again.

"But that prisoner is mine." The Empress hissed. "Guardsmen, you will take him away. I will decide what to do with him later."

There was a crashing of armour and the offending nobleman called out to his Queen in terror before his cries were cut off by a slamming door.

"Secondly, I have lost sight of Duke Pontar, where are you, Lord Frederick?"

The court parted again and I limped forwards. I longed for a comfortable chair and to rest my eyes.

"There you are." The Empress said warmly, but it was a brittle warmth, as though she was deliberately showing me, and everyone, that she was still angry underneath. "You have been wronged most egregiously Your Grace and we would have you witness justice be done."

I managed to keep myself from sighing. I never enjoy this part of being in a courtroom. Sometimes people need to be destroyed in a public forum and sometimes, people that I care about are the ones to do the destruction. But I never enjoy it.

I moved forwards and back into my original position before attempting to bow again.

I noticed that as I walked, a couple of people took a risk and bowed to me as I passed. I think that they saw the way that the tide was turning and was trying to curry favour.

"Now, the realm of Redania has apologised." On the flip of the coin, Ciri's voice became hard and uncompromising. "What say the church of the Eternal Flame and the greater city of Novigrad?"

A younger priest came forward and as he did so, his look at me was stricken with sorrow.

"I would also like to apologise, both to you Imperial Majesty and to the right honourable duke. Your brother was a hero of mine, Your Grace," he said to me. "And like many, I hope to travel in his footsteps. The decision has not yet been made but we already think of the late Cardinal of the church as a Saint. We hope that this will allow us to take the Eternal Flame into a new dawn and more traditional values."

He turned back to the throne. He had emphasised the title of Cardinal when he spoke to me as if to remind everyone of Mark's rank and his possible future one. I did my best to note the young priest's face so I could watch him in the future.

"With your permission Imperial Majesty, we will take our errant brother away and ensure that he cannot…"

"No," Ciri told him. "Your church and your city are forgiven, Father. But that man fomented treason and insult against, as you say, your own saint. Your church is not above worldly matters and although I am the Empress, I also speak for the Great Sun. You would do well to remind your brothers that the Eternal Flame exists on sufferance. GUARDS?"

There was another forlorn wail as the offensive priest was taken away. As he went he tried to make himself a martyr and told everyone that he would go to meet the Eternal Flame with a clear conscience. He was shouting insults and treason and, if we're honest, more than a little heresy which appalled the court that was now, well aware of the politics of the situation.

The Empress was not happy.

"Let me be clear, my lords… Let me explain some things I know. I know that this rebellion, the Kalayn rebellion, was not done in a small way. I know that many of the members of the rebellion were painfully stupid, just as some others of them were extraordinarily clever. I know that they cannot have done all of these things by themselves. I know that the secret will have got out and I know that other people will have known what was going to happen.

"I cannot believe… my lords that the Eternal Flame or the Church of Kreve knew nothing about this rebellion. The confessional booth can hide a lot of sins but this is not one of them. These men were convinced of the rightness of their cause. So I cannot believe that this rebellion wasn't talked about in the confessional booths which means that you knew of it, and you did nothing."

She exploded to her feet.

"THIS MAN," she pointed at me "HAS DONE NOTHING BUT CHAMPION THE CAUSE OF THE ETERNAL FLAME. EVEN WHEN THE CHURCH HAS WANTED NOTHING MORE THAN TO THROW HIM TO THE FIRE ALONG WITH THE MEN AND THE WOMEN THAT LOVE HIM."

Her rage was appalling and she paced on the dais.

"Over and over again there are petitions that beg me to see to the destruction of the Coulthard family. Over and over again there are accusations of heresy and treason, the most recent not least, but these people tried to get the word out. They tried to tell us what was happening and they have, so obviously, paid the price. So we did what you wanted. We investigated and we found… nothing.

"There was nothing there, other than evidence that the Coulthard family are amongst our most loyal subjects. Even your own Inquisitions who collaborated on the effort could find nothing to condemn him and the religious presence among Lord Frederick's judges found him unanimously guilty."

She spun, causing a couple of people to jump.

"And before the nobility got too smug, there were supporters of this rebellion on both sides of the border. Merchants and nobility alike. This rebellion was well-armed, provisioned and equipped. Friends of people in this hall rebelled.

"What?" She laughed bitterly, "Did you all suddenly turn blind, deaf and dumb? Those merchant princes amongst you. Are you telling me you didn't notice the vast amounts of arms and armour that were being purchased and shipped and did you not think that might point towards war and rebellion? Did you not think to mention it to someone in authority or were you only thinking about your own funds? Or… did you seek the destruction of better merchants than you in the body of the Coulthard trading company.

"And you nobles. As your brothers and friends led their forces to war, stripping their fields and villages of men and provisions which will… inevitably lead to another famine and disease given that this rebellious effort began during the time of harvest, did you not think that this was a danger? Did you not think that this was wrong? Or again, did you just think that an enemy might be destroyed? That… That perceived freedom would return the world to glory days which never actually existed in the first place. Were you waiting to see how the rebellion was going to go before joining in? Your inaction is just as treasonous as those that led troops against us.

"Just as treasonous, but far more cowardly.

"And finally, do not think that we are innocent."

I looked up sharply. This was new.

"Those that we trusted to bring us news of this matter did not see it coming. Those of our forces sat aside and allowed this to happen. We own the fault, my lords. We all of us own it. We owe the Coulthard family better.

"Look at them. I SAID LOOK AT THEM. Look at what they gave. Look at what they gave in the service of their friends and loved ones and the church and country and continent that they adore. Never again let it be said of them that they are any less than the patriots that they are."

I looked at her and as I did, I saw that she had gone further than she had intended as she shook with emotion. The courtroom was quiet

"Lords and ladies, Coulthard. You will join us in our study to discuss your new duties in more detail."

She turned and stalked from the room. The court bowed as she left and it took me a few moments to realise that we were supposed to follow her.

The entire room watched us go, some people were thoughtful, and some people were shocked at the breadth of the emotion that they had seen and heard there. Some people were afraid of whatever it was that was going through the Empress' head. A significant number were angry at what had been decided and done and still more were looking determined. A few looked ashamed and some even looked righteous.

The guards took us through the court and threw a door that was at the side. There are often doors like this in courtrooms. I had been to the royal palace in Vizima a couple of times as a tourist and when the court was not in session and like any other courtroom, there are often little doors that you can have no idea what goes on behind the door. The eye is drawn to them because they are often guarded and are quite large and ornate. I was left to wonder what was behind this door.

There is a similar door in the throne room of Kaer Trolde in Skellige and as it turns out, this door led to the same kind of place. This was where the private chambers and studies of the royal personage were.

We were led into a small corridor that was lined with windows on one side which left me with a similar kind of curiosity as the door had, wondering on which view the windows looked out on. I couldn't look properly or get my bearings as the glass was rather blurry and full of bubbles. I had enough time to wonder if the glass was smoky and obscured deliberately to stop people looking in just as much as it might be to stop people looking out.

The other wall was lined with suits of armour. They looked like ancient pieces of work to my eyes. Far from entirely practical and were obviously held in place deliberately. The palace was newly built by Queen Anais' father during the time of the Striga and it would not have surprised me to learn that these pieces of armour had stayed in place since the time of the palace was built.

I would have loved to spend some time examining things but I didn't have time. The Empress wanted to move quickly in order to get wherever she was going and all my focus and concentration went back to following her and doing my best to keep up. Just as I was beginning to be convinced that I had made some gains in my coordination and ability to move with my cane and false feet, then I would overreach and come perilously close to falling over.

The corridor was not long before we turned right into what I took to be a central tower. There was a staircase there that hugged the right wall in a curve and up into a room which turned out to be the Empress' personal study or receiving room. There was a large desk there as well as several bookshelves that were full of scrolls and documents. As we got there I think Ciri wanted to yell at someone as she walked in and began to scream something about "EVERYONE out" but her voice tailed off as she realised that we were the only people there. Lord Voorhis had come with us with a general air of not giving a damn and a kind of assumption that anywhere the Empress went, then so too did he go. The Secretary closed the door behind us and waited outside.

Ciri stalked over to the desk before leaning on it for a moment with her head bowed.

We stood watching her for a long moment other than Lord Voorhis who bustled around the place. First, he found me a chair and helped me to sit down before going over to the drinks table and starting to pour everyone drinks. Emma and Laurelen also went and found somewhere soft to sit while Emma had a little silent sob to herself.

Ciri sighed as she suddenly seemed to come to life in front of us. She saw the drink that Lord Voorhis had placed next to her hand and picked it up before swallowing it at a gulp. He was prepared though and poured her another one which she took and sat behind the desk, cradling the second drink. She stared at the ceiling for a long moment before she started to speak.

"I have to kill those two men," she said to no one in particular.

"Which two men?" I asked automatically.

"The priest and the Redanian?" Lord Voorhis wondered.

"Those are the ones. It wasn't their fault of course…"

"Maybe the priest," Laurelen said from the side. "I think it was his fault. Ambition and moral outrage are harsh mistresses."

"Maybe him then," Ciri agreed. "But that noble was unhooded and sent from Adda's hunting glove in the same way that I would send a hunting falcon at the pigeon. She sent him to say those things to see what would happen."

"And to enjoy his downfall," Lord Voorhis said as he poured me another drink. I had not remembered drinking the first one. "She didn't like that young man. According to my sources, she is fed up with his suggestions about joining him in his bed."

Ciri gave him some side-eye.

"Are these sources reliable this time Lord Voorhis?"

His face was an interesting one. At first, he was angry and disgusted that she might suggest something different but then those feelings were chased away by unhappy acceptance.

"It will take me some time to rebuild a proper base of information in Redania as we are still checking former agents for their reliability. But in this case, I am pretty sure that we can be confident."

Ciri nodded and closed her eyes as she stared at the ceiling.

"I don't want to kill them, but I have to," She was looking for confirmation.

"Yes, you do," Lord Voorhis told her. "Whatever else might be true, both of them spoke treason. That needs addressing ruthlessly."

"I need a brutal execution, horrific-looking but is over quickly. Do you have any suggestions?"

Voorhis considered, rolling his cup between his hands.

"In these kinds of instances, your Father preferred having people torn apart by horses. Horrific and sickening to watch but for the actual victim it is over with some speed. The trick is to choose the right horses for the job. Quick, runaway horses. Not the slow, careful horses that will stop when they feel a weight."

"It would need to be fast. And we need to do the priest, at least, in private so that he doesn't become a martyr."

"The priest is easier," Emma croaked, startling everyone there with the sound of her voice. "Punish him but not the church. He will want to be a martyr… Don't let him. As you say, private and tell everyone that it was over quickly."

Ciri nodded. "You are probably right. I'm going to make Adda watch as that noble peacock gets torn apart though."

She seemed to be trying to let go of her naked emotion. She sat there and took the time to do some breathing exercises before she pulled off her gauntlets and set them aside. She scrubbed her face with her hand and then looked at me steadily for a moment.

"Well, Your Grace?" She asked. "How do you feel?"

"I have been thinking about that," I told her. "And I'm not immediately sure. I want to be angry. I want to point out how you have put a huge target on my back for everyone to see. My back and Emma and Laurelen's as well. I wonder if you expect me to be grateful but all you have done is give us work to do. There is little privilege or honour in all of this. I mean you warned me and everything, but most of all I wonder if you haven't made some huge mistake."

For some reason, my comment seemed to touch a sense of her amusement and she started to smile.

"Oh?" She took another sip of her cup and placed it on the desk in front of her before folding her hands in her lap and stretching her legs out in front of her. "And why is that?"

"As you say," I pointed after making sure that my cane was within proper reach. "Look at us. Look at Emma and me. I am crippled. I am reassured that I will, eventually get back to the point where I can walk normally and in all things other than a couple, my right hand is dominant, but I know enough about superstitions, both the folklore and the religious, that people will see my crippling as being a curse and you want me to be, essentially, the King of the Pontar valley."

"Technically a Duke." I sometimes struggle with Lord Voorhis. He is one of those people that I can never quite tell if he's telling me a joke or whether he's being serious.

"Come on," I tried to snarl at him. I don't think I had the proper energy for it though. "You know as well as I do how much that technicality is going to be. There are people in Redania, Novigrad and Temeria that are going to hate us for this. Let alone Aedirn and Kaedwen. And that's not to say those poor children in Angraal who saw their parents as Duke and Duchess over a much smaller territory and they have every reason to hate me and I won't blame them."

The Empress' eyes glittered as she watched me.

"And on top of all of that, We're sick and tired. Emma can barely speak…"

"Except when it comes to business," The Empress put in but I was onto my track of things now.

"And I can barely stand for long periods. My doctor, who is your doctor apparently, tells me that it's going to be months before I'm strong enough for decent amounts of work."

"Which will give us every excuse to support you," Lord Voorhis told me.

I just gaped at the pair of them.

"I'm just a minor son of a minor baron," I told them both. I wasn't really surprised to hear tears at the back of my throat. "I have not been trained to the feudal responsibilities of a barony let alone a Duchy. I'm a historian, a scholar at best. In another life, I might have made a good priest. But in this instance?" I shook my head. "This is not a reward that I want. If you want to reward me you should let us go."

"It's not a reward," The Empress told me as Lord Voorhis went to stand behind her.

"It's not?" I didn't believe them and I looked from Lord Voorhis to the Empress and back.

"It is not," Lord Voorhis agreed.

"People are going to see it like that," I told them. "How are you going to get around the claim that this is all just an extended piece of nepotism and you playing favourites."

"I don't care what other people think," The Empress told me. "And nor should you. This is not a new thought and it has been argued about and agreed upon among several people including Queen Anais and Queen Adda who both agreed that this was needed."

"Even if Adda is going to make you work for it," Voorhis said darkly. Ciri ignored him.

"But let's take your objections as they came," The Empress went on. "Yes, you are sick and crippled. You will recover from your weakness, and all of your doctors agree with that. You will be able to regain your mobility and Lady Eilhart intends to enchant a prosthesis for you so that you will have, essentially, a working left hand. She even, rather worryingly, suggested that it might work better than it had before which, in turn, made her muse that replacing entire bodies with wood and metal might improve the race. I told her not to pursue that line of research."

Lord Voorhis snorted.

"So you will get better," Ciri went on. "Yes, you have your work cut out getting people on your side but you will also have allies. The Baroness of Crow's Perch has reported several bandit problems that we know for a fact are ambitious lords from both sides of the border trying to invade her because she is a weak woman and can't stand up to them."

I snorted at the thought. The Baroness of Crow's Perch was and is a terrifying woman. When I had been sent to court her by my Father I remember wild hair, an arming jacket and shrill laughter as I made her laugh. Two more unsuited people to be married I still struggle to think of.

"The Baron of Flotsam is under pressure from both sides and as for Angraal? Who else am I going to send? Lord ]Voorhis?"

Again, it was a funny image.

"Those children might hate you, but they know you and you can teach them why you are innocent. And as for the Lord Mayor of Novigrad…? All you have to do to make Novigrad love you again is to rebuild the docks, remove the corruption there and allow Coulthard shipping to trade out of their docks and warehouses again."

I looked at Emma. Now that the conversation had moved towards trade, her face had become alive and she was listening with interest. I felt as though my sister was back in the room. She saw me looking and shrugged before nodding.

I looked back and saw that the Empress was waiting for me to acknowledge her.

"Your competence is an issue," The Empress went on. "I will surround you with qualified men and women. You will have all the funds that you need and that will be enforced by Imperial tax collectors and believe me, I am just itching with the desire to use my full might on anyone that would interfere with Imperial taxes. And at the end of the day, all you will be doing is listening to advice and then making the best decision that you can. You will have generals, chancellors and other feudal lords falling over themselves to offer you advice."

"And… In the North, the Imperial Intelligence Service is going to work for you." Lord Voorhis told me. Ciri looked at him sharply. "And speaking from a certain perspective, it will not be hard to point out that you have lost your completely autonomous castle as now, there will be an Imperial garrison living there. You will certainly have your own guards and things but it will be easy to point out that they are there to guarantee your good behaviour and that if you act out of line, then your life will be ended."

"Yeah…" I muttered, I hadn't thought of that. "Are they there for that?"

"No more than any other garrison." He argued and again, Ciri glared at him.

"But the last thing?" The Empress said. "The real reason that this is happening and the real reason that it has to be you is that it needs to be done and no one else can be trusted to do it."

I leant forward. "What do you mean?"

She mirrored my posture with a lean forward of her own. It was also a little funny as I nearly over-balanced and remembered that I had to get my cane to lean on when I did things like this.

"Everything that I said in the courtroom," she began. "Everything I said in there was true. No sooner was the rebellion of your brother and friends defeated, than Redania swooped in to pick over the corpse of the Coulthard family and take what they could get. Not just the Coulthard family and lands, but Novigrad and Northern Temeria as well. And they did it officially with troops in uniform and troops out of uniform that were the "bandits' and "traitors' that the Redanians went in there to help and police.

"I would say that it was only natural for Temeria to mobilise troops in response to this but the Temerians did the same thing. The same thing, all but at the same time. The Northern lords of Temeria don't like the Baroness of Crow's Perch because her father worked for Nilfgaard before any of the rest of them had thought of it, and her refusal to marry any of them and give them control of the area means that they hate her. It is possible that you don't understand just how close Velen came to being a warfront again.

"Troops from both sides, under the pretence of being traitorous followers of your brother, sacked a good part of Coulthard lands and moved into Flotsam and there were even raids in Angraal. Both Adda and Anais swear blind to me that they knew nothing about either of these efforts but I can't afford to believe either of them. Neither of them is particularly secure in their positions and is struggling to keep hold of what they have.

"Anais is Queen of Temeria but she has a Regent's Council to contend with. She gets her strength from the fact that her brother and Natalis have trained her well, but the council wants her to marry so that they can have one of them in charge. It's the same thing that you had to deal with in Toussaint."

She glared at Voorhis.

"It is a problem familiar to me as well."

Voorhis shrugged.

"But her people love her so her surviving lords have to go around her to do what she wants. Leaving aside the number of deaths that happened in the fall of Temeria so there is plenty of land and wealth to go around, but these people always want more.

"Adda is weak in the other direction. She is the head of the Regency Council until her son comes of age. She has ten years of power ahead of her but everyone, including her, knows that when her son is of age, she is done as she is far from popular. So even if she is honest, loyal and above board…"

"Which I don't believe for a second." Voorhis put in.

The Empress glared at him.

"Then she is fighting the fact that all her enemies have to do is to turn her son against her and wait. So the nobles go against her to get what they want in the sure knowledge that they can go around her and above her any time that they want to.

"And the criminals and the merchants and everyone all know this." Voorhis put in.

"So that means that the Pontar River is now a hotbed of banditry and horror. I need to put troops in the area and I need to have people in there that I can trust. It needs to happen but if I give that authority to a Temerian then the Redanians will be up in arms. If I give it to a Redanian then Temeria will be up in arms."

"I am Redanian." I argued.

"Come on Freddie," She scoffed. "And if I give it to an Imperial then both sides are up in arms. You are the only solution. You have come out of the rebellion. The panel found you not guilty, and when all of this bullshit was going down, you were provably in the custody of the church and the Empire, or you were recuperating and not able to get up to anything.

"You are the only one that can be trusted here. You say that you are Redanian, but you are not really. You are Redanian enough to mollify the Redanians but they are well known to dislike you enough to appease the Temerians. You are known in Angraal to be trustworthy. Your family is responsible for a lot of wealth flowing through Flotsam and those citizens just want a stable life back. The Baroness of Crow's Reach has good memories of you and understands that she cannot stand alone. Novigrad will be brought on the side with trade increasing and stabilising. Aedirn and Kaedwen are desperate for someone, anyone, to step in so…"

She stopped and took a breath.

"You are the only one that I can trust to do this Freddie. The only one…"

"Imperial Forces…" I began. I was beginning to think that I was done and that there was little more that I could do to argue the point.

"The North will not accept a Southern man," she said forcefully, slamming her palm on the desk. "And we cannot trust any Northern man that wears black for fear that they have been infiltrated."

I frowned at that, this was new information.

"What?" I wondered.

Ciri turned and looked at Lord Voorhis who grimaced unhappily.

"The church and your neighbours are not the only people that have let you down Lord Frederick. It turns out that a number of the people that I recruited from the North knew about the coming rebellion and didn't say anything. Including the, now, former head of Intelligence in the North that I know you consulted before it all started to happen."

"The one that served on my judging panel?" I wondered.

"The very one. If we had known that at the time, he would not have sat there and it would have been someone else."

"He found me guilty of treason."

"He did, he was trying to cover his ass. Just as we think that the Redanian who tried to tell everyone that you were a traitor and a heretic was playing politics on someone's behalf. Possibly Adda or one of your other rivals for the land, or a former enemy that is now powerful in the court of Redania. We are looking into it but…"

He shrugged.

"It is only by dint of the Empress' extraordinary mercy that my head remains on my shoulders."

I couldn't tell what he meant by that.

"So I am sorry Lord Frederick." He told me formally. "After everything that you have done for the Empire, you deserved better than that. I can only hope that…"

"Yes yes," The Empress waved her hand. "You can flagellate yourself later, but for the right here and right now, there is no one else to do your job either. So get over it and do better next time."

Lord Voorhis bowed and The Empress turned back to me.

"I need you, Lord Frederick. I need you and I will not take no for an answer."

This was not my friend in front of me. This was not the woman that I had sailed with and drank with. This was the Empress. I truly am finding it much easier to be able to separate one from the other.

I was already caught though and I think we both knew it.

"I hate you more than a little for this," I told her. "This is far more than I expected."

"I know," she replied.

"There is a very real chance that I will never forgive you and that this will ruin our friendship,"

She shook her head.

"That is not going to be the thing that ruins our friendship, Freddie. I need to know that you will be honest with me and let me know where there are problems and what we can do to counter them when they come up. I need to know that you will do that.

"I also think that the reason that you struggle so much after crises and battles is that you naturally want to rest. I think that this is a mistake. You shake and take longer and longer to recover from exertion and the horrors that you have seen and done. But I think you need to get back to work. So I am giving you a job. It will take you several years but then things will settle down and you can go back to being a scholar and things. Only now, you will do so with an Imperial, ducal escort."

She shook her head and Ciri was there for a moment.

"I cannot lose you as well Freddie," Ciri told me.

"I will give you funds, authority, people that you can trust and work with and all the power that you can need. But that is not the thing that will make you hate me."

I had the sense of another shoe about to drop.

She took a deep breath and The Empress was back.

"The history of the Kalayn rebellion is going to be written by someone," she told me. "Already, there are scholars in Temeria and Redania that are working on it. That record is going to be tainted. Therefore, you are going to do it."

I nodded.

"You are right," I told her, unable to keep the disappointment out of my voice. "This is the reason that I will hate you. I can't do that Ciri, I was locked in a basement. My history comes from what I have seen and interacted with. I have already written what I saw, I cannot do this, I am the wrong person for this."

"Again," she said coldly. "You are the only one who can do this. There are plenty of other arguments that we can both make as to why you can't be the one to do this and why I insist that you are the only one that can. I am also aware that, once again, I am using your voice, a trusted voice, to do and say the things that I need you to say, just as your brother did in the dark. So I'm sorry Freddie. But this needs to be done and you are going to be the one that does it. You can publish your findings in Dorthan's magazine, you don't need to sugarcoat anything because, as I say, everyone is at fault and no one comes out of this smelling of roses."

And I knew she was right in this as well. The thought occurred somewhere in the middle of her speech. All of the arguments that she had made and that I could make would just mean that we would go round and round in circles again, the same as we ever had and that we had done when I was arguing about writing about Sam's death.

And if I was going to be a Duke now, I needed to start fighting back.

"I am going to need the authority to order people to speak to me," I said. "I will need to speak to Generals, foot soldiers and nobles of every stripe."

"You shall have it."

"And they will need to come to me. I will have other duties now, not least of which is physical recovery. I cannot go chasing up to Northern Redani to speak to the Officer that led the first charge over the walls at the castle."

"We understand." Lord Voorhis intoned. "And you shall have access to the official record."

"The book, or articles, will not be extensive and I will be writing from my reference work as well."

"We understand," Ciri said. "Same as before, write it and then it will be checked to make sure that you are not shirking your duty. But beyond that… what you write is up to you."

I nodded.

"And there is one other thing that I want."

"What is it?"

I did my best to smile my best Witcher's smile.

"You will convene a court, the same as you did for me, to examine the evidence regarding Ariadne's interactions and decide, formally and with the full weight of the Imperial seal, as to whether she is guilty or innocent of wrongdoing."

Ciri sighed unhappily.

"Freddie, no one thinks that Ariadne was anything other than a tool used by sinister hands. No one thinks that she is anything other than innocent, indeed many people have declared that things could have been a lot worse without her."

"Good then," I told her. "You should have no problem saying so on a political and legal stage."

"Freddie," Ciri tried again. "Ariadne is gone. Even the most powerful magic in the continent can't find her. We've tried."

"I fail to understand why that should be an obstacle as to what I want. I understand that it would be convenient for everyone if she stays vanished. But if she comes back?"

"Freddie…"

"Also, what message does that send? If we do not say something then it means that the churches and the nobles can argue that she is just a monster non-human. The hate that they felt for her will pass onto other non-humans and suddenly, non-humans are responsible for everything else again as well. Eventually, history will be adjusted to say that she influenced Sam into rebellion so that she could be the Spider Queen again and Sam was the weak man that couldn't stand before her. Then people will say 'Isn't he the brother of the man that she seduced? And isn't he the man that is now, essentially, King of the Pontar?'"

I stared at her.

"And isn't he the adopted brother of the Empress?"

"He's right." Voorhis signal.

"And what if that panel finds her guilty?" The Empress wondered.

I considered this for a moment.

"I thought that everyone knew that she was innocent," I told her.

And once again, I gave my best attempt at a Witcher's smile.